ORE  BOY 

>RATIO  ALGER.  JR. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 

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1.  Strong  and  Steady 

2.  Strive  and  Succeed 

3.  Try  and  Trust 

4.  Bound  to  Rise 

5.  Risen  from  the  Ranks 

6.  Herbert  Carter's  Legacy 
f .  Brave  and  Bold 

8.  Jack's  Ward 

9.  Shifting  for  Himself 

10.  Wait  and  Hope 

11.  Paul  the  Peddler 

12.  PhU  the  Fiddler 

13.  Slow  and  Sure 

14.  Julius  the  Street  Boy 

15.  Tom  the  Bootblack 

16.  Struggling  Upward 

17.  Facing  the  World 

18.  The  Cash  Boy 

19.  Making  His  Way 

20.  Tony  the  Tramp 

21.  Joe's  Luck 

22.  Do  and  Dare 

23.  Only  an  Irish  Boy 

24.  Sink  or  Swam 


*i 


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THE  STORE  BOY 

OR 

THE  FORTUNES  OF  BEN  BARCLAY 


BY 


HORATIO   ALGER,  Jr. 

AUTHOR  OF 

'AMnaWT  IN  NEW  YORK,"    "nED  NEWTON,"    "mAEK  STANTON,'* 

"jROM  CANAL  BOY  TO  PRESIDENT,"  "ERIE  TRAIN  BOY," 

"adventures  OP  a  TELEGRAPH  BOY,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  NEW  YORK  BOOK  COMPANY 

1913 


BIOGRAPHY  AND  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

HoEATio  Algee,  Jr.,  an  author  who  lived  among  and 
for  boys  and  himself  remained  a  boy  in  heart  and  asso- 
ciation till  death,  was  born  at  Revere,  Mass.,  January  13, 
1834.  He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman;  was  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  1852,  and  at  its  Divinity  School  m 
1860;  and  was  pastor  of  the  Unitarian  Church  at  Brewster, 
Mass.,  in  1862-66. 

In  the  latter  year  he  settled  in  New  York  and  began 
drawing  pubUc  attention  to  the  condition  and  needs  of 
street  boys.  He  mingled  with  them,  gained  their  confi- 
dence, showed  a  personal  concern  in  their  afiairs,  and 
stimulated  them  to  honest  and  useful  Uving.  With  his 
first  story  he  won  the  hearts  of  all  red-blooded  boys  every- 
where, and  of  the  seventy  or  more  that  followed  over  a 
million  copies  were  sold  during  the  author's  lifetime. 

In  his  later  life  he  was  in  appearance  a  short,  stout, 
bald-headed  man,  with  cordial  manners  and  whimsical 
views  of  things  that  amused  all  who  met  him.  He  died  at 
Natick,  Mass.,  July  18,  1899. 

IVIr.  Alger's  stories  are  as  popular  now  as  wben  first 
published,  because  they  treat  of  real  live  boys  who  were 
always  up  and  about — ^just  Uke  the  boys  found  everywhere 
to-day.  They  are  pure  in  tone  and  inspiring  in  influence, 
and  many  reforms  m  the  juvenile  life  of  New  York  may 
be  traced  to  them.    Among  the  best  known  are: 

Strong  and  Steady;  Strive  and  Su<xeed;  Try  and  Trust; 
Bound  to  Rise;  Risen  from  the  Ranks;  Herbert  Carter's 
Legacy;  Brave  and  Bdd;  Jack's  Ward;  Shifting  for  Him- 
self; Wait  and  Hope;  Paul  the  Peddler}  Phil  the  Fiddler; 
Slow  and  Sure;  Jidius  the  Street  Boy;  Tom  the  Bootblack; 
Struggling  Upward;  Facing  the  World;  The  Cash  Bey; 
Making  His  Way;  Tony  the  Tramp;  Joe's  Lvck;  Do  a?id 
Dare;  Only  an  Irish  Boy;  Sink  or  Swim;  A  Coimn's  Con- 
spiracy; Andy  Gordon;  Boh  Burton;  Harry  Vane;  Hector  s 
Inheritance;  Mark  Mason's  Triumph;  Sam's  Cliunce;  The 
Telegraph  Boy;  The  Young  Adventurer;  llie  Young  Out- 
law; The  Young  Salesman,  and  Luke  Walton, 


THE  STORE  BOY 

CHAPTER    I  } 

BEN  BARCLAY   MEETS  A  TRAMP 

"Give  me  a  ride?" 

Ben  Barclay  checked  the  horse  he  was  driving  and  looked 
attentively  at  the  speaker.  He  was  a  stout-built,  dark-com- 
plexioned man,  with  a  beard  of  a  week's  growth,  wearing 
an  old  and  dirty  suit,  which  would  have  reduced  any  tailor 
to  despair  if  taken  to  him  for  cleaning  and  repairs.  A  loose 
hat,  with  a  torn  crown,  surmounted  a  singularly  ill-favored 
visage. 

"A  tramp,  and  a  hard-looking  one!"  said  Ben  to  himself. 

He  hesitated  about  answering,  being  naturally  reluctant 
Ip  have  such  a  traveling  companion. 

"Well,  what  do  you  say?"  demanded  the  tramp,  rather 
impatiently.  "  There's  plenty  of  room  on  that  seat,  and  I'm 
dead  tired." 

"  Where  are  you  going? "  asked  Ben. 

"  Same  way  you  are — to  Pehtonville." 

"  You  can  ride,"  said  Ben,  in  a  tone  by  no  means  cordial, 
and  he  halted  his  horse  till  his  unsavory  companion  climbed 
into  the  wagon. 

They  were  two  miles  from  Pentonville,  and  Ben  had  a 
prospect  of  a  longer  ride  than  he  desired  under  the  circum- 
stances. His  companion  pulled  out  a  dirty  clay  pipe  from 
his  pocket,  and  filled  it  with  tobacco,  and  then  explored 
another  pocket  for  a  match.  A  muttered  oath  showed  that 
he  failed  to  find  one. 

"Got  a  match,  boy?"  he  asked. 

"  No,"  answered  Ben,  glad  to  have  escaped  the  offensive 
fumes  of  the  pipe. 

"  Just  my  luck !  "  growled  the  tramp,  putting  back  the  pipe 
with  a  look  of  disappointment.  "  If  you  had  a  match  now, 
I  wouldn't  mind  letting  you  have  a  whiff  or  two." 

"  I  don't  smoke,"  answered  Ben,  hardly  able  to  repress  a 
look  of  disgust. 

"  So  you're  a  good  boy,  eh?  One  of  the  Sunday-school  kids 
that  want  to  be  an  angel,  hey?  Pah! "  and  the  tramp  exhib- 
ited the  disgust  which  the  idea  gave  him. 

r- 


16  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  Yes,  I  go  to  Sunday  school,"  said  Ben,  coldly,  feeling 
more  and  more  repelled  by  his  companion. 

"  I  never  went  to  Sunday  school,"  said  his  companion. 
"  And  I  wouldn't.  It's  only  good  for  milksops  and  hypo- 
crites." 

"  Do  you  think  you're  any  better  for  not  going? "  Ben 
couldn't  help  asking. 

"  I  haven't  been  so  prosperous,  if  that's  what  you  mean. 
I'm  a  straightforward  man,  I  am.  You  always  know  where 
to  find  me.  There  ain't  no  piety  about  me.  What  are  you 
laughin'  at?" 

"  No  offense,"  said  Ben.    "  I  believe  every  word  you  say." 

"  You'd  better.  I  don't  allow  no  man  to  doubt  my  word, 
nor  no  boy,  either.    Have  you  got  a  quarter  about  you?" 

"  No." 

*'  Nor  a  dime?    A  dime'll  do." 

"  I  have  no  money  to  spare." 

"  I'd  pay  yer  to-morrer." 

"  You'll  have  to  borrow  elsewhere;  I  am  working  in  a  store 
for  a  very  small  salary,  and  that  I  pay  over  to  my  mother." 

"  Whose  store?  " 

"  Simon  Crawford's;  but  you  won't  know  any  better  for  my 
telling  you  that,  unless  you  are  acquainted  in  Pentonville." 

"  I've  been  through  there.  Crawford  keeps  the  grocery 
store." 

"  Yes." 

"  What's  your  name?  " 

"  Ben  Barclay,"  answered  our  hero,  feeling  rather  annoyed 
at  what  he  considered  intrusive  curiosity. 

"Barclay?"  replied  the  tramp,  quickly.  "Not  John  Bar- 
clay's son?  " 

It  was  Ben's  turn  to  be  surprised.  He  was  the  son  of  John 
Barclay,  deceased,  but  how  could  his  ill-favored  traveling 
companioli  know  that? 

"Did  you  know  my  father?"  asked  the  boy,  astonished. 

"  I've  heerd  his  name,"  answered  the  tramp,  in  an  evasive 
tone. 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  Ben,  feeling  that  he  bad 
a  right  to  be  as  curious  as  his  companion. 

"  I  haven't  got  any  visitin'  cards  with  me,"  answered  th» 
tramp,  dryly. 

"  Nor  I;  but  I  told  you  my  name." 

"  All  right;  I'll  tell  you  mine.    You  can  call  me  Jack  Frost.** 

"  I  gave  you  my  real  name,"  said  Ben,  significantly. 

"  I've  almost  forgotten  what  my  real  name  is,"  said  thai 
tramp.  "  If  you  don't  like  Jack  Frost,  you  can  call  me  George 
Washington." 

Ben  laughed. 

"  I  don't  think  that  name  would  suit,"  be  said.  "  George 
Washington  never  told  a  lie." 


THE   STORE   BOY  17 

"What  d'ye  mean  by  that?"  demanded  the  tramp,  his 
brow  darkening. 

"  I  was  jokingj"  answered  Ben,  who  did  not  care  to  get  into 
difficulty  with  such  a  man. 

"  I'm  going  to  joke  a  little  myself,"  growled  the  tramp,  as, 
looking  quickly  about  him,  he  observed  that  they  were  rid- 
ing over  a  lonely  section  of  the  road  lined  with  woods. 
"  Have  you  got  any  money  about  you?  " 

Ben,  taken  by  surprise,  would  have  been  glad  to  answer 
"  No,"  but  he  was  a  boy  of  truth,  and  could  not  say  so  truly, 
though  he  might  have  felt  justified  in  doing  so  under  the 
circumstances. 

"  Come,  I  see  you  have.  Give  it  to  me  right  off  or  it'll  be 
the  worse  for  you." 

Now  it  happened  that  Ben  had  not  less  than  twenty-five 
dollars  about  him.  He  had  carried  some  groceries  to  a  re- 
mote part  of  the  town,  and  collected  two  bills  on  the  way. 
All  this  money  he  had  in  a  wallet  in  the  pocket  on  the  other 
side  from  the  tramp.  But  the  money  was  not  his;  it  be- 
longed to  his  employer,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to  give  it 
up  without  a  struggle,  though  he  knew  that  in  point  of 
strength  he  was  not  an  equal  match  for  the  man  beside  him. 

"  You  will  get  no  money  from  me,"  he  answered,  in  a  firm 
tone,  though  he  felt  far  from  comfortable. 

"  I  won't,  hey!  "  growled  the  tramp.  "  D'ye  think  I'm  goin' 
to  let  a  boy  like  you  get  the  best  of  me?" 

He  clutched  Ben  by  the  arm,  and  seemed  in  a  fair  way  to 
overcome  opposition  by  superior  strength,  when  a  fortunate 
idea  struck  Ben.  In  his  vest  pocket  was  a  silver  dollar, 
which  had  been  taken  at  the  store,  but,  proving  to  be  coun- 
terfeit, had  been  given  to  Ben  by  Mr.  Crawford  as  a  curi- 
osity. 

This  Ben  extracted  from  his  pocket,  and  flung  out  by  the 
roadside. 

"  If  you  want  it,  you'll  huve  to  get  out  and  get  it,"  he  said. 

The  tramp  saw  the  coin  glistening  upon  the  ground,  and 
had  no  suspicion  of  its  not  being  genuine.  It  was  not  much 
— only  a  dollar — but  he  was  "  dead  broke,"  and  it  was  worth 
picking  up.  He  had  not  expected  that  Ben  had  much,  and 
80  was  not  disappointed. 

"Curse  you!"  he  said,  relinquishing  his  hold  upon  Ben. 
"  Why  couldn't  you  give  it  to  me  instead  of  throwing  it  out 
there?  " 

"Because,"  answered  Ben,  boldly,  "I  didn't  want  you  to 
have  it." 

"Get  out  and  get  it  for  me!" 

"  I  won't !  "  answered  Ben  firmly. 

"  Then  stop  the  horse,  and  give  me  a  chance  to  get  out." 

"  I'll  do  that." 

Ben  brought  the  horse  to  a  halt,  and  his  unwelcome  pas-  i 
»«nger  descended,  much  to  his  relief.    He  had  to  walk  aroiiiiul 


18  THE    STORE    BOY 

the  wagon  to  get  at  the  coin.  Our  hero  brought  down  th© 
whip  with  emphasis  on  the  horse's  back,'  and  the  animal 
dashed  off  at  a  good  rate  of  speed. 

"Stop!"  exclaimed  the  tramp,  but  Ben  had  no  mind  to 
heed  his  call. 

"  No,  my  friend,  you  don't  get  another  chance  to  ride  with 
me,"  he  said  to  himself. 

The  tramp  picked  up  the  coin,  and  his  practiced  eye  de- 
tected that  it  was  bogus. 

"The  young  villain!"  he  muttered,  angrily.  "I'd  like  to 
wring  his  neck.  It's  a  bad  one,  after  all."  He  looked  after 
the  receding  team,  and  was  half  disposed  to  follow,  but  he 
changed  his  mind,  reflecting,  "  I  can  pass  it  anyhow." 

Instead  of  pursuing  his  journey,  he  made  his  way  into 
the  woods,  and,  stretching  himself  out  among  the  under- 
brush, went  to  sleep. 

Half  a  mile  before  reaching  the  store,  Ben  overtook  Rose 
Gardiner,  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  prettiest  girl 
in  Pendleton — at  any  rate,  such  was  Ben's  opinion.  She 
looked  up  and  smiled  pleasantly  as  Ben  took  off  his  hat. 

"  Shall  you  attend  Prof.  Harrington's  entertainment  at  the 
Town  Hall  this  evening,  Ben?  "  she  asked,  after  they  had  in- 
terchanged greetings. 

"  I  should  like  to  go,"  answered  Ben,  "  but  I  am  afraid  I 
can't  be  spared  from  the  store.    Shall  you  go?" 

"  I  wouldn't  miss  it  for  anything.  I  hope  I  shall  see  you 
there." 

"  I  shall  want  to  go  all  the  more  then,"  answered  Ben, 
gallantly. 

"  You  say  that  to  flatter  me,"  said  the  young  lady,  with  an 
arch  smile. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Ben,  earnestly.  "  Won't  you  get  in, 
and  ride  as  far  as  the  store?" 

"Would  it  be  proper?"  asked  Miss  Rose,  demurely. 

"  Of  course  it  would." 

"  Then  I'll  venture." 

Ben  jumped  from  the  wagon,  assisted  the  young  lady  in, 
and  the  two  drove  into  the  village  together.  He  liked  his 
second  passenger  considerably  better  than  the  first. 


CHAPTER    11 

BEN   AND   HIS    MOTHER 

Ben  Barclay,  after  taking  leave  of  the  tramp,  lost  no  time 
in  driving  to  the  grocery  store  where  he  was  employed.  It 
was  a  large  country  store,  devoted  not  to  groceries  alone,  but 
supplies  of  dry-goods,  boots  and  shoes,  and  the  leading  arti- 


THE   STORE.  BOY  19 

eles  required  in  the  community-  There  were  two  other 
clerks  beside  Ben,  one  the  son,  another  the  nephew,  of  Si- 
mon Crawford,  the  proprietor. 

"  Did  you  collect  any  money,  Ben? "  asked  Simon,  who 
ehanced  to  be  standing  at  the  door  when  our  hero  drove  up. 

"Yes,  sir;  I  collected  twenty-five  dollars,  but  came  near 
losing  it  on  the  way  home." 

"  How  was  that?    I  hope  you  were  not  careless." 

"No,  except  in  taking  a  stranger  as  passenger.  Whea  we 
got  to  that  piece  of  woods  a  mile  back,  he  asked  me  for  all 
the  money  I  had." 

"A  highwayman,  and  so  near  Pentonville!"  ejaculated  Si- 
mon Crawford.    "  What  was  he  like?  " 

"A  regular  tramp." 

"  Yet  you  say  you  have  the  money.  How  did  you  manage 
to  keep  it  from  him?" 

Ben  detailed  the  stratagem  of  which  he  made  use. 

"You  did  well,"  said  the  storekeeper,  approvingly.  "I 
must  give  you  a  dollar  for  the  one  you  sacrificed." 

"But,  sir,  it  was  bad  money.    I  couldn't  have  passed  it." 

"That  does  not  matter.  You  are  entitled  to  some  reward 
few  the  courage  and  quick  wit  you  displayed.  Here  is  a  dol- 
lar, and — let  me  see,  there  is  an  entertainment  at  the  T©wa 
Hall  this  evening,  isn't  there?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Prof.  Harrington,  the  magician,  gives  aa  em- 
tOTtainment."  said  Ben,  eagerly. 

"At  what  time  does  it  commence?" 

"At  eight  o'clock." 

"  You  may  leave  the  store  at  half -past  seven.  That  will 
give  you  time  enough  to  get  there." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  wanted  to  go  to  the  entertainment^  but 
did  not  like  to  ask  for  the  evening." 

"  You  have  earned  it.  Here  is  the  dollar,"  and  Mr.  Craw- 
ford handed  the  money  to  his  young  clerk,  who  received  it 
gratefully. 

A  magical  entertainment  may  be  a  very  common  affair  to 
my  young  readers  in  the  city,  but  in  a  country  village  it  is 
an  event.  Pentonville  was  too  small  to  have  any  regular 
place  of  amusement,  and  its  citizens  were  obliged  to  de- 
pend upon  traveling  performers,  who,  from  time  to  time, 
engaged  the  Town  Hall.  Some  time  had  elapsed  since  there 
had  been  any  such  entertainment,  and  Prof.  Harrington  was 
the  more  likely  to  be  well  patronized.  Ben,  who  had  the 
love  of  amusement  common  to  boys  of  his  age,  had  been 
regretting  the  necessity  of  remaining  in  the  store  till  nine 
o'clock,  and  therefore  losing  his  share  of  amusement  when, 
as  we  have  seen,  an  opportunity  suddenly  offered. 

"  I  am  glad  I  met  the  tramp,  after  all,"  he  said  to  himielf. 
*  He  has  brought  me  luck." 

At  supper  he  told  his  mother  what  had  befallen  him,  but 
she  took  a  more  serious  view  of  it  than  he  did. 


20  THE    STORE   BOY  ) 

"  He  might  have  murdered  you,  Ben,"  she  said,  with  a 
shudder. 

"Oh,  no;  he  wouldn't  do  that.     He  might  have  stolen  Mr. 
Crawford's  money;  that  was  the  most  that  was  likely  to  hap-  ' 
pen." 

"  I  didn't  think  there  were  highwaymen  about  here.  Now 
I  shall  be  worrying  about  you." 

"Don't  do  that,  mother;  I  don't  feel  in  any  danger.  Still, 
if  you  think  best,  I  will  carry  a  pistol." 

"  No,  no,  Ben!  it  might  go  off  and  kill  you.  I  would  rather 
run  the  risk  of  a  highwayman.  I  wonder  if  the  man  is 
prowling  about  in  the  neighborhood  yet?  " 

"  I  don't  think  my  bogus  dollar  will  carry  him  very  far. 
By  the  way,  mother,  I  must  tell  you  one  strange  thing.  Ho 
asked  me  if  I  was  John  Barclay's  son." 

"What!  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Barclay,  in  a  tone  of  great  sur- 
prise.    "Did  he  know  your  name  was  Barclay?" 

"  Not  till  I  told  him.  Then  it  was  he  asked  if  I  was  the 
son  of  John  Barclay." 

"Did  he  say  he  knew  your  father?" 

"  I  asked  him,  but  he  answered  evasively." 

"  He  might  have  seen  some  resemblance — that  is,  if  he  had 
ever  met  your  father.  Ah!  it  was  a  sad  day  for  us  all  when 
your  poor  father  died.  We  should  have  been  in  a  verj 
different  position,"  the  widow  sighed. 

"  Yes,  mother,"  said  Ben;  "  but  when  I  get  older  I  will  try  to 
supply  my  father's  place,  and  relieve  you  from  care  and 
trouble." 

"  You  are  doing  that  in  a  measure  now,  my  dear  boy,"  said 
Mrs.  Barclay,  affectionately.  "  You  are  a  great  comfort  to 
me." 

Ben's  answer  was  to  go  up  to  his  mother  and  kiss  her. 
Some  boys  of  his  age  are  ashamed  to  show  their  love  for 
the  mother  who  is  devoted  to  them,  but  it  is  a  false  shame, 
that  does  them  no  credit. 

"  Still,  mother,  you  work  too  hard,"  said  Ben.  "  Wait  till 
I  am  a  man,  and  you  shall  not  need  to  work  at  all." 

Mrs.  Barclay  had  been  a  widow  for  five  years.  Her  hus- 
band had  been  a  commercial  traveler,  but  had  contracted  a 
fever  at  Chicago,  and  died  after  a  brief  illness,  without  his 
wife  having  the  satisfaction  of  ministering  to  him  in  his  last 
days.  A  small  sum  due  him  from  his  employers  was  paid 
over  to  his  family,  but  no  property  was  discovered,  though 
his  wife  had  been  under  the  impression  that  her  husband 
possessed  some.  He  had  never  been  in  the  habit  of  con- 
fiding his  business  affairs  to  her,  and  so,  if  he  had  invest- 
ments of  any  kind,  she  could  not  learn  anything  about  them. 
She  found  herself,  therefore,  with  no  property  except  a 
small  cottage,  worth,  with  its  quarter  acre  of  land,  perhaps 
fifteen  hundred  dollars.  As  Ben  was  too  small  to  earn  any- 
thing, she  had  been  compelled  to  raise  about  seven  hundred 


THE    STORE    BOY  21 

dollars  on  mortgage,  which  by  this  time  had  been  expended 
for  living.  Now,  Ben  was  earning  four  dollars  a  week,  and, 
with  her  own  earnings,  she  Was  able  to  make  both  ends  meet 

p    without  further  encroachments  upon  her  scanty  property; 

ir  but  the  mortgage  was  a  source  of  anxiety  to  her,  especially 
as  it  was  held  by  Squire  Davenport,  a  lawyer  of  considerable 
means,  who  was  not  overscrupulous  about  the  methods  by 
which  he  strove  to  increase  his  hoards.    Should  he  at  any 

=    time  take  it  into  his  head  to  foreclose,  there  was  no  one 

J    to  whom  Mrs.  Barclay  could  apply  to  assume  the  mort- 

*  gage,  and  she  was  likely  to  be  compelled  to  sacrifice  her 
home.     He  had  more  than  once  hinted  that  he  might  need 

*  the  money,  but  as  yet  had  gone  no  further. 

^       Mrs.  Barclay  had  one  comfort,  however,  and  a  great  one. 
This  was  a  good  son.    Ben  was  always  kind  to  his  mother — 
a  bright,   popular,   promising  boy — and   though  at  present 
he  was  unable  to  earn  much,  in  a  few  years  he  would  be 
able  to  earn  a  good  income,  and  then  his  mother  knew  that 
■   she  would  be  well  provided  for.    So  she  did  not  allow  her- 
,   self  to  borrow  trouble,  but  looked  forward  hopefully,  thank- 
ing God  for  what  He  had  given  her. 
"Won't  you  go  up  to  the  Town  Hall  with  me,  mother?" 
I  asked  Ben.    "I  am  sure  you  would  enjoy  it." 

"  Thank  you,  Ben,  for  wishing  me  to  have  a  share  in  your 
amusements,"  his  mother  replied,  "  but  I  have  a  little  head- 
ache this  evening,  and  I  shall  be  better  off  at  home." 

"  It  isn't  on  account  of  the  expense  you  decline,  mother, 
is  it?  You  know  Mr.  Crawford  gave  me  a  dollar,  and  the 
tickets  are  but  twenty-five  cents." 

"  No,  it  isn't  that,  Ben.     If  it  were  a  concert  I  might  be 
^  tempted  to  go  in  spite  of  my  headache,  but  a  magical  enter- 

*  tainment  would  not  q,muse  me  as  much  as  it  will  you." 

"Just  as  you  think  best,  mother;  but  I  should  like  to  have 
t  you  go.    You  won't  feel  lonely,  v/ill  you?" 
f      "I  am  used  to  being  alone  till  nine  o'clock,  when  you  are 
'  %  at  the  store." 

;  w      This  conversation  took  place  at  the  supper-table.     Ben 

went  directly  from  the  store  to  the  Town  Hall,  where  he 

I «  enjoyed   himself  as  much   as   he  anticipated.     If   he  could 

'  I  have  foreseen  how  his  mother  was  to  pass  that  evening,  it 

would  have  destroyed  all  his  enjoyment. 


CHAPTER    III 

MRS.   BARCLAY'S    CALLERS 

About  half-past  eight  o'clock,  Mrs.  Barclay  sat  with  her 
work  in  her  hand.  Her  headache  was  better,  but  she  did 
not  regret  not  having  accompanied  Ben  to  th©  Town  Hall. 


22  THE    STORE    BOY  / 

"I  am  glad  Ben  is  enjoying  himself,"  she  thought,  "but 
I  would  rather  stay  quietly  at  home.  Poor  boy!  he  works 
hard  enough,  and  needs  recreation  now  and  then." 

Just  then  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  outside  door. 

"  I  wonder  who  it  can  be?  "  thought  the  widow.  "  I  sup- 
posed everybody  would  be  at  the  Town  Hall.  It  may  be 
Mrs.  Perkins  come  to  borrow  something." 

Mrs.  Perkins  was  a  neighbor  much  addicted  to  borrowing, 
which  was  rather  disagreeable,  but  might  have  been  more 
easily  tolerated  but  that  she  seldom  returned  the  articles 
lent. 

Mrs.  Barclay  went  to  the  door  and  opened  it,  fully  expect- 
ing to  see  her  borrowing  neighbor.  A  very  different  per- 
son met  her  view.  The  ragged  hat,  the  ill-looking  face,  the 
neglected  attire,  led  her  to  recognize  the  tramp  whom  Ben 
had  described  to  her  as  having  attempted  to  rob  him  in  the 
afternoon.  Terrified,  Mrs.  Barclay's  first  impulse  was  to 
shut  the  door  and  bolt  it.  But  her  unwelcome  visitor  was 
too  quick  for  her.  Thrusting  his  foot  into  the  doorway,  he 
interposed  an  effectual  obstacle  in  the  way  of  shutting  the 
door. 

"  No,  you  don't,  ma'am!  "  he  said,  with  a  laugh.  "  I  under- 
stand your  little  game.    You  want  to  shut  me  out." 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  asked  the  widow,  apprehensively. 

"What  do  I  want?"  returned  the  tramp.  "Well,  to  be- 
gin with,  I  want  something  to  eat — and  drink,"  he  added, 
after  a  pause. 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  the  tavern?"  asked  Mrs.  Barclay, 
anxious  for  him  to  depart. 

"  Well,  I  can't  afford  it.  All  the  money  I've  got  is  a  bogus 
dollar  your  rogue  of  a  son  gave  me  this  afternoon," 

"  You  stole  it  from  him,"  said  the  widow,  indignantly. 

"  What's  the  odds  if  I  did.  It  ain't  of  no  value.  Come, 
haven't  you  anything  to  eat  in  the  house?  I'm  as  hun- 
gry as  a  wolf." 

"And  you  look  like  one!"  thought  Mrs.  Barclay,  glancing 
at  his  unattractive  features;  but  she  did  not  dare  to  say  it. 

There  seemed  no  way  of  refusing,  and  she  was  glad  to 
comply  with  his  request,  if  by  so  doing  she  could  soon  get 
rid  of  him. 

"  Stay  here,"  she  said,  "  and  I'll  bring  you  some  bread  and 
butter  and  cold  meat." 

"  Thank  you,  I'd  rather  come  in,"  said  the  tramp,  and  he 
pushed  his  way  through  the  partly  open  door. 

She  led  the  way  uneasily  into  the  kitchen  just  in  the  rear 
of  the  sitting-room  where  she  had  been  seated. 

"  I  wish  Ben  was  here,"  she  said  to  herself,  with  sinking 
heart. 

The  tramp  seated  himself  at  the  kitchen  table,  while  Mrs. 
Barclay,  going  to  the  pantry,  brought  out  part  of  a  loaf  of 
bread,  and  butter,  and  a  few  slices  of  cold  beef,  which  she 


« 


'>>' 

M 

;-:''.?i 


THE    STORE   BOY  23 

set  before  him.  Without  ceremony  he  attacked  the  viands 
and  ate  as  if  half  famished.  When  about  half  through,  he 
turned  to  the  widow,  and  asked: 

"Haven't  you  some  whiskey  in  the  house?" 

"  I  never  keep  any,"  answered  Mrs.  Barclay. 

"  Rum  or  gin,  then?  I  ain't  partic'lar.  I  want  something 
to  warm  me  up." 

"  I  keep  no  liquor  of  any  kind.  I  don't  approve  of  drink, 
or  want  Ben  to  touch  it." 

"Oh,  you  belong  to  the  cold  water  army,  do  you?"  said 
the  tramp,  with  a  sneer.     "  Give  me  some  coffee,   then." 

"  I  have  no  fire,  and  cannot  prepare  any." 

"  What  have  you  got,  then? "  demanded  the  unwelcome 
guest,  impatiently. 

"  I  can  give  you  a  glass  of  excellent  well  water," 

"  Faugh!  Do  you  want  to  choke  me?  "  returned  the  tramp, 
in  disgust. 

"  Suppose  I  mix  you  some  molasses  and  water,"  suggested 
the  widow,  anxious  to  propitiate  her  dangerous  guest. 

"  Humph!  Well,  that  will  do,  if  you've  got  nothing  better. 
Be  quick  about  it,  for  my  throat  is  parched." 

As  soon  as  possible  the  drink  was  prepared  and  set  be- 
side his  plate.  He  drained  it  at  a  draught,  and  called  for 
a.  second  glass,  which  was  supplied  him.  Presently,  for  all 
things  must  have  an  end,  the  tramp's  appetite  seemed  to  be 
satisfied.  He  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  stretched 
his  legs,  and,  with  both  hands  in  his  pockets,  fixed  his  eyes 
on  the  widow. 

"  I  feel  better,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay.  "  Now,  if  you'll 
be  kind  enough,  leave  the  house,  for  I  expect  Ben  back  be- 
fore long." 

"  And  you  don't  want  him  to  get  hurt,"  laughed  the  tramp, 
"  Well,  I  do  owe  him  a  flogging  for  a  trick  he  played  on 
me." 

"Oh,  pray,  go  away!"  said  Mrs.  Barclay,  apprehensively. 
"  I  have  given  you  some  supper,  and  that  ought  to  satisfy 
you." 

"  I  can't  go  away  till  I've  talked  to  you  a  little  on  busi- 
ness." 

"Business!    What  business  can  you  have  with  me?" 

"  More  than  you  think.  You  are  the  widow  of  Joim  Bar- 
clay, ain't  you?" 

"Yes;  did  you  know  my  husband?" 

"Yes;  that  is,  I  saw  something  of  him  just  before  he 
died." 

"Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  his  last  moments?" 
asked  the  widow,  forgetting  the  character  of  her  visitor, 
and  only  thinking  of  her  husband. 

"  No,  that  isn't  in  my  line.    I  ain't  a  doctor  nor  yet  a  min- 
ister.   I  say,  did  he  leave  any  money?" 
2tt 


24  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  Not  that  we  have  been  able  to  find  out.  He  owned  this 
house,  but  left  no  other  property," 

"  That  you  know  of,"  said  the  tramp,  significantly. 

"Do  you  know  of  any?"  asked  Mrs.  Barclay,  eagerly, 
"  How  did  you  happen  to  know  him?  " 

"  1  was  the  barkeeper  in  the  hotel  where  he  died.  It 
was  a  small  house,  not  one  of  your  first-class  hotels." 

"  My  husband  was  always  careful  of  his  expenses.  He 
would  not  spend  money  unnecessarily.  With  his  prudence 
we  all  thought  he  must  have  some  investments,  but  we  could 
discover  none." 

"  Have  you  got  any  money  in  the  house?  "  asked  the  tramp, 
with  seeming  abruptness. 

"Why  do  you  ask?"  returned  the  widow,  alarmed. 
"  Surely,  you  would  not  rob  me?  " 

"  No.  I  don't  want  to  rob  you.  I  want  to  sell  you  some- 
thing. 

"  I  don't  care  to  buy.  It  takes  all  our  money  for  necessary 
expenses." 

"  You  don't  ask  what  I  have  to  sell." 

"  No,  because  I  cannot  buy  it,  whatever  it  may  be." 

"  It  is — a  secret,"  said  the  tramp. 

"A  secret!"  repeated  Mrs.  Barclay,  bewildered. 

"  Yes,  and  a  secret  worth  buying.  Your  husband  wasn't 
so  poor  as  you  think.  He  left  stock  and  papers  representing 
three  thousand  dollars,  and  I  am  the  only  man  who  can  put 
you  in  the  way  of  getting  it." 

Mrs.  Barclay  was  about  to  express  her  surprise,  when  a 
loud  knock  was  heard  at  the  outer  door. 

"  Who's  that?  "  demanded  the  tramp,  quickly.  "  Is  it  the 
boy?" 

"  No,  he  would  not  knock." 

"  Then,  let  me  get  out  of  this,"  he  said,  leaping  to  his  feet. 
"Isn't  there  a  back  door?" 

"  Yes,  there  it  is," 

He  hurried  to  the  door,  unbolted  it,  and  made  his  escape 
into  the  open  field  beyond  the  house,  just  as  the  knock  was 
repeated. 

Confused  by  what  she  had  heard,  and  the  strange  con- 
duct of  her  visitor,  the  widow  took  the  lamp  and  went  to 
the  door.  To  her  surprise  she  found,  on  opening  it,  two 
visitors,  in  one  of  whom  she  recognized  Squire  Davenport, 
already  referred  to  as  holding  a  mortgage  on  her  house. 
The  other  was  a  short,  dark-complexioned  man,  who  looked 
like  a  mechanic. 

"Excuse  me  the  lateness  of  my  call,  Mrs,  Barclay,"  said 
the  squire,  smoothly.  "  I  come  on  important  business.  This 
is  Mr.  Kirk,  a  cousin  of  my  wife," 

"  Walk  in,  gentlemen,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay. 

"  This  is  a  night  of  surprises,"  she  thought  to  herself. 


THE   STORE   BOY  25 

CHAPTER   IV 

UNPLEASANT  BUSINESS 

It  was  now  nine  o'clock,  rather  a  late  hour  for  callers  in 
the  country,  and  Mrs.  Barclay  waited  not  without  curiosity 
to  hear  the  nature  of  the  business  which  had  brought  her 
two  visitors  at  that  time. 

"  Take  seats,  gentlemen,"  she  said,  with  the  courtesy 
habitual  to  her. 

Squire  Davenport,  who  was  disposed  to  consider  that  he 
had  a  right  to  the  best  of  everything,  seated  himself  in  the 
rocking-chair,  and  signed  his  companion  to  a  cane-chair  be- 
side him. 

"  Mr.  Kirk,"  he  commenced,  "  is  thinking  of  coming  to 
Pentonville  to  live." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay,  politely.  Per- 
haps she  would  not  have  said  this  if  she  had  known  what 
was  coming  next. 

"  He  is  a  carpenter,"  continued  the  squire,  "  and,  as  we 
have  none  in  the  village  except  old  Mr.  Wade,  who  is  super- 
annuated, I  think  he  will  find  enough  to  do  to  keep  him 
busy." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  assented  the  widow. 

"  If  he  does  not,  I  can  employ  him  a  part  of  the  time  on 
my  land." 

"What  has  all  this  to  do  with  me?"  thought  Mrs.  Barclay. 

She  soon  learned. 

"  Of  course  he  will  need  a  house,"  pursued  the  squire, 
"  and  as  his  family  is  small,  he  thinks  this  house  will  just 
suit  him." 

"  But  I  don't  wish  to  sell,"  said  the  widow,  hurriedly.  "  I 
need  this  house  for  Ben  and  myself." 

"  You  could  doubtless  find  other  accommodations.  I  dare 
say  you  could  hire  a  couple  of  rooms  from  Elnathan  Per- 
kins." 

"  I  wouldn't  live  in  that  old  shell,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay, 
rather  indignantly,  "  and  I  am  sure  Ben  wouldn't." 

"  I  apprehend  Benjamin  will  have  no  voice  in  the  matter," 
said  Squire  Davenport,  stiffly.    "  He  is  only  a  boy." 

"  He  is  my  main  support,  and  my  main  adviser,"  said  Mrs. 
Barclay,  with  spirit,  "  and  I  shall  not  take  any  step  which 
is  disagreeable  to  him." 

Mr.  Kirk  looked  disappointed,  but  the  squire  gave  him 
an  assuring  look,  as  the  widow  could  see. 

"  Perhaps  you  may  change  your  mind,"  said  the  squire, 
significantly.  "  I  am  under  the  impression  that  I  hold 
a  mortgage  on  this  property." 

"Yes,  sir,"  assented  Mrs.  Barclay,  apprehensively. 


26  THE    STORE    BOY 

"  For  the  sum  of  seven  hundred  dollars,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  shall  have  need  of  this  money  for  other  purposes,  and 
will  trouble  you  to  take  it  up," 

"  I  was  to  have  three  months'  notice,"  said  the  widow, 
with  a  troubled  look. 

"  I  will  give  you  three  months'  notice  to-night,"  said  the 
squire. 

"  I  don't  know  where  to  raise  the  money,"  faltered  Mrs. 
Barclay. 

"  Then  you  had  better  sell  to  my  friend  here.  He  will 
assume  the  mortgage  and  pay  you  three  hundred  dollars." 

"  But  that  will  be  only  a  thousand  dollars  for  the  place." 

"  A  very  fair  price  in  my  opinion,  Mrs.  Barclay." 

"  I  have  always  considered  it  worth  fifteen  hundred  dol- 
lars," said  the  widow,  very  much  disturbed. 

"A  fancy  price,  my  dear  madam;  quite  an  absurd  price, 
I  assure  you.     What  do  you  say.  Kirk?" 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  squire,"  said  Kirk,  in  a  strong, 
nasal  tone,  "  But  then,  women  don't  know  anything  of  busi- 
ness." 

"  I  know  that  you  and  your  cousin  are  trying  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  my  poverty,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay,  bitterly,  "  If 
you  are  a  carpenter,  why  don't  you  build  a  house  for  your- 
self,  instead  of  trying  to  deprive  me  of  mine?" 

"  That's  my  business,"  said  Kirk,  rudely. 

"  Mr.  Kirk  cannot  spare  the  time  to  build  at  present,"  said 
the  squire, 

"  Then  why  doesn't  he  hire  rooms  from  Elnathan  Perkins, 
as  you  just  recommended  to  me?" 

"  They  wouldn't  suit  him,"  said  the  squire,  curtly.  "  He 
has  set  his  mind  on  this  house." 

"  Squire  Davenport"  said  Mrs.  Barclay,  in  a  softened 
voice,  "  I  am  sure  you  cannot  understand  what  you  ask  of 
me  when  you  seek  to  take  my  home  and  turn  me  adrift. 
Here  I  lived  with  my  poor  husband;  here  my  boy  was  born. 
During  my  married  life  I  have  had  no  other  home.  It  is 
a  humble  dwelling,  but  it  has  associations  and  charms 
for  me  which  it  can  have  for  no  one  else.  Let  Mr,  Kirk 
seek  .some  other  house  and  leave  me  undisturbed  in  mine." 

"Humph!"  said  the  squire,  shrugging  his  shoulders;  "you 
look  upon  the  matter  from  a  sentimental  point  of  view. 
That  is  unwise.  It  is  simply  a  matter  of  business.  You 
speak  of  the  house  as  yours.  In  reality,  it  is  more  mine 
than  yours,  for  I  have  a  major  interest  in  it.  Think  over 
my  proposal  coolly,  and  you  will  see  that  you  are  unrea- 
sonable. Mr.  Kirk  may  be  induced  to  give  you  a  little  more 
— say  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars — over  and  above  the 
mortgage,  which,  as  I  said  before,  he  is  willing  to  assume." 

"  How  does  it  happen  that  you  are  willing  to  let  the  mort- 


THE   STORE  BOY  27 

gage  remain,  if  he  buys,  when  you  want  the  money  for  othec 
purposes?"  asked  the  widow,  keenly. 

"  He  is  a  near  relative  of  my  wife,  and  that  makes  a  dif-t 
ference,  I  apprehend." 

"Well,  madam,  what  do  you  say?"  asked  Kirk,  briskly. 

"I  say  this,  that  I  will  keep  the  house  if  I  can." 

"You  needn't  expect  that  I  will  relent,"  said  the  squire,; 
hastily. 

"  I  do  not,  for  I  see  there  is  no  consideration  in  your  heart 
for  a  poor  widow;  but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  Provi- 
dence will  raise  up  some  kind  friend  who  will  buy  the  mort- 
gage, or  in  some  other  way  will  enable  me  to  save  my  home." 

"  You  are  acting  very  foolishly,  Mrs.  Barclay,  as  you  will 
realize  in  time.  I  give  you  a  week  in  which  to  change  youri 
mind.  Till  then  my  friend  Kirk's  offer  stands  good.  Aften 
that  I  cannot  promise.  If  the  property  is  sold  at  auction, 
I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  did  not  fetch  more  than  the 
amount  of  my  lien  upon  it." 

"  I  will  trust  in  Providence,  Squire  Davenport." 

"  Providence  won't  pay  off  your  mortgage,  ma'am,"  said 
Kirk,  with  a  coarse  laugh. 

Mrs.  Barclay  did  not  answer.  She  saw  that  he  was  a  mam 
of  coarse  fiber,  and  did  not  care  to  notice  him. 

"  Come  along,  Kirk,"  said  the  squire.  "  I  apprehend  she 
will  be  all  right  after  a  while.  Mrs.  Barclay  will  see  heE 
own  interest  when  she  comes  to  reflect." 

"  Good-evening,  ma'am,"  said  Kirk. 

Mrs.  Barclay  inclined  her  head  slowly,  but  did  not  reply. 

When  the  two  had  left  the  house,  she  sank  into  a  chaiF) 
and  gave  herself  to  painful  thoughts.  She  had  known  that 
Squire  Davenport  had  the  right  to  dispossess  her,  but  had  nof] 
supposed  he  would  do  so  as  long  as  she  paid  the  interest 
regularly.  In  order  to  do  this,  she  and  Ben  had  made  earn- 
est efforts,  and  denied  themselves  all  but  the  barest  necessi- 
ties. Thus  far  she  had  succeeded.  The  interest  on  seven 
hundred  dollars  at  six  per  cent,  had  amounted  to  forty-two 
dollars,  and  this  was  a  large  sum  to  pay,  but  thus  far  they 
had  always  had  it  ready.  That  Squire  Davenport,  with  his 
own  handsome  mansion,  would  fix  covetous  eyes  on  her  little 
home,  she  had  not  anticipated,  but  it  had  come  to  pass. 

As  to  raising  seven  hundred  dollars  to  pay  off  the  mort- 
gage, or  induce  any  capitalist  to  furnish  it,  she  feared  iti 
would  be  quite  impossible. 

She  anxiously  waited  for  Ben's  return  from  the  Town  Hall 
in  order  to  consult  with  him. 


28  THE    STORE   BOY 

CHAPTER   V 

PROP.   HARRINGTON'S   ENTERTAINMENT 

Meanwhile  Ben  Barclay  was  enjoying  himself  at  Prof. 
Harrington's  entertainment.  He  was  at  the  Town  Hall  fif- 
teen minutes  before  the  time,  and  secured  a  seat  very  near 
the  stage,  or,  perhaps  it  will  be  more  correct  to  say,  the 
platform.  He  had  scarcely  taken  his  seat  when,  to  his  grati- 
fication, Rose  Gardiner  entered  the  hall  and  sat  down  beside 
him. 

"  Good-evening,  Ben,"  she  said,  pleasantly.  "  So  you  came, 
after  all." 

Ben's  face  flushed  with  pleasure,  for  Rose  Gardiner  was, 
as  we  have  said,  the  prettiest  girl  in  Pentonville,  and  for 
this  reason,  as  well  as  for  her  agreeable  manners,  was  an 
object  of  attraction  to  the  boys,  who,  while  too  young  to  be 
in  love,  were  not  insensible  to  the  charms  of  a  pretty  face. 
I  may  add,  that  Rose  was  the  niece  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gardiner, 
the  minister  of  the  leading  church  in  the  village. 

"  Good-evening,  Rose,"  responded  Ben,  who  was  too  well 
acquainted  with  the  young  lady  to  address  her  more  for- 
mally;  "  I  am  glad  to  be  in  such   company." 

"  I  wish  I  could  return  the  compliment,"  answered  Rose, 
with  a  saucy  smile. 

"  Don't  be  too  severe,"  said  Ben,  "  or  you  will  hurt  my 
feelings." 

"  That  would  be  a  pity,  surely;  but  how  do  you  happen 
to  get  off  this  evening?  I  thought  you  spent  your  evenings 
at  the  store?" 

"So  I  do  generally,  but  I  was  excused  this  evening  for  a 
special  reason,"  and  then  he  told  of  his  adventure  with  the 
tramp. 

Rose  listened  with  eager  attention. 

"Weren't  you  terribly  frightened?"   she  asked. 

"No,"  answered  Ben,  adding,  with  a  smile:  "Even  if  I  had 
been,  I  shouldn't  like  to  confess  it." 

"  I  should  have  been  so  frightened  that  I  would  have 
screamed,"  continued  the  young  lady. 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  said  Ben,  amused.  "  I'll  remem- 
ber it  next  time." 

"  Oh,  now  I  know  you  are  laughing  at  me.  Tell  me  truly, 
weren't  you  frightened?" 

"  I  was  only  afraid  I  might  lose  Mr.  Crawford's  money. 
The  tramp  was  stronger  than  I,  and  could  have  taken  it 
from  me  if  he  had  known  I  had  it." 

"  You  tricked  him  nicely.  Where  did  he  go?  Do  you 
think  he  is  still  in  town?  " 

"  He  went  into  the  woods.  I  don't  think  he  is  in  the  vil- 
lage.   He  would  be  afraid  of  being  arrested." 


THE  STORE  BOY  29 

At  that  very  moment  the  tramp  was  in  Ben's  kitchen,  but 
of  that  Ben  had  no  idea. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  if  I  met  him,"  said  Rose. 
"You  see  I  came  alone.  Aunt  couldn't  come  with  me,  and 
uncle,  being  a  minister,  doesn't  care  for  such  things." 

"  Then  I  hope  you'll  let  me  see  you  home,"  said  Ben,  gal- 
lantly. 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  trouble  you,"  said  Rose,  with  a  spice 
of  coquetry.    "  It  will  take  you  out  of  your  way." 

"  I  don't  mind  that,"  said  Ben,  eagerly. 

"Besides,  there  won't  be  any  need.  You  say  the  tramp 
isn't  in  the  village." 

"  On  second  thoughts,  I  think  it  very  likely  he  is,"  said 
Ben. 

"  If  you  really  think  so "  commenced  Rose,  with  cun- 
ning hesitation. 

"  I  feel  quite  sure  of  it.    He's  a  terrible  looking  fellow." 

Rose  smiled  to  herself.  She  meant  all  the  time  to  accept 
Ben's  escort,  for  he  was  a  bright,  attractive  boy,  and  she 
liked  his  society. 

"  Then  perhaps  I  had  better  accept  your  offer,  but  I  am 
sorry  to  give  you  so  much  trouble." 

"  No  trouble  at  all,"  said  Ben,  promptly. 

Just  then  Prof.  Harrington  came  forward  and  made  his 
introductory  speech. 

"  For  my  first  experiment,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  said, 
when  this  was  over,  "  I  should  like  a  pocket  handkerchief." 

A  countryfied-looking  young  man  on  the  front  seat,  anxious 
to  share  in  the  glory  of  the  coming  trick,  produced  a  flaming 
red  bandana  from  his  pocket  and  tendered  it  with  out- 
stretched hand. 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  the  professor,  "  but  this  will 
hardly  answer  my  purpose.  I  should  prefer  a  linen  hand- 
kerchief.    Will  some  young  lady  oblige  me?" 

"Let  him  have  yours,  Rose,"  suggested  Ben. 

Rose  had  no  objection,  and  it  was  passed  to  the  professor. 

"  The  young  lady  will  give  me  leave  to  do  what  I  please 
with  the  handkerchief?  "  asked  the  professor. 

Rose  nodded  assent. 

"  Then,"  said  the  professor,  "  I  will  see  if  it  is  proof 
against  fire." 

He  deliberately  unfolded  it,  crushed  it  in  his  hand,  and 
then  held  it  in  the  flame  of  a  candle. 

Rose  uttered  a  low  ejaculation. 

"  That's  the  last  of  your  handkerchief.  Rose,"  said  Ben. 

"  You  made  me  give  it  to  him.  You  must  buy  me  an- 
other," said  the  young  lady. 

"  So  I  will,  if  you  don't  get  it  back  safe." 

"How  can  I?" 

"I  don't  know.  Perhaps  the  professor  does,"  answered 
Ben. 


30  THE   STORE   BOY 

"Really,"  said  the  professor,  contemplating  the  handker- 
chief, regretfully.  "  I  am  afraid  I  have  destroyed  the  hand- 
kerchief; I  hope  the  young  lady  will  pardon  me." 

He  looked  at  Rose,  but  she  made  no  sign.  She  felt  a  little 
disturbed,  for  it  was  a  fine  handkerchief,  given  her  by  her 
aunt. 

"  I  see  the  young  lady  is  annoyed,"  continued  the  magician. 
"  In  that  case  I  must  try  to  repair  damages.  I  made  a  little 
mistake  in  supposing  the  handkerchief  to  be  non-combusti- 
ble.   However,  perhaps  matters  are  not  so  bad  as  they  seem." 

He  tossed  the  handkerchief  behind  a  screen,  and  moved 
forward  to  a  table  on  which  was  a  neat  box.  Taking  a  small 
key  from  his  pocket,  he  unlocked  it  and  drew  forth  before 
the  astonished  eyes  of  his  .audience  the  handkerchief  in- 
tact. 

"I  believe  this  is  your  handkerchief,  is  it  not?"  he  asked, 
stepping  down  from  the  platform,  and  handing  it  back  to 
Rose. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Rose,  in  amazement,  examining  it  care- 
fully, and  unable  to  detect  any  injury. 

"  And  it  is  in  as  good  condition  as  when  you  gave  it  to 
me?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

So  much  the  better.  Then  I  shall  not  be  at  the  expense  of 
buying  a  new  one.  Young  man,  have  you  any  objections  to 
lending  me  your  hat?  " 

This  question  was  addressed  to  Ben. 

"  No,  sir." 

"Thank  you.  I  will  promise  not  to  burn  it,  as  I  did  the 
young  lady's  handkerchief.  You  are  sure  there  is  nothing 
in  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

By  this  time  the  magician  had  reached  the  platform. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  doubt  the  young  gentleman's  word,"  said 
the  professor,  "  but  I  will  charitably  believe  he  is  mistaken. 
Perhaps  he  forgot  these  articles  when  he  said  it  was  empty," 
and  he  drew  forth  a  couple  of  potatoes  and  half  a  dozen 
onions  from  the  hat  and  laid  them  on  the  table. 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter  from  the  audience,  and  Ben 
looked  rather  confused,  especially  when  Rose  turned  to  him 
and,  laughing,  said: 

"You've  been  robbing  Mr.  Crawford,  I  am  afraid,  Ben." 

"  The  young  gentleman  evidently  uses  his  hat  for  a  mar- 
ket-basket," proceeded  the  professor.  "  Rather  a  strange 
taste,  but  this  is  a  free  country.    But  what  have  we  here?" 

Out  came  a  pair  of  stockings,  a  napkin  and  a  necktie. 

"  Very  convenient  to  carry  your  wardrobe  about  with  you," 
said  the  professor,  "  though  it  is  rather  curious  taste  to  put 
them  with  vegetables.  But  here  is  something  else,"  and 
the  magician  produced  a  small  kitten,  who  regarded  the  au- 
dience with  startled  eyes  and  uttered  a  timid  moan. 


THE   STORE   BOY  31 

"Oh,  Ben!  let  me  have  that  pretty  kitten,"  said  Rose. 

"It's  none  of  mine! "  said  Ben,  half  annoyed,  half  amused. 

"I  believe  there  is  nothing  more,"  said  the  professor. 

He  carried  back  the  hat  to  Ben,  and  gave  it  to  him,  with 
the  remark: 

"Young  man,  you  may  call  for  your  vegetables  and  other 
articles  after  the  entertainment." 

"  You  are  welcome  to  them,"  said  Ben. 

"Thank  you;  you  are  very  liberal." 

When  at  length  the  performance  was  over,  Ben  and  Rose 
moved  toward  the  door.  As  Rose  reached  the  outer  door,  a 
boy  about  Ben's  age,  but  considerably  better  dressed,  stepped 
up  to  her,  and  said,  with  a  consequential  air: 

"  I  will  see  you  home,  Miss  Gardiner." 

"Much  obliged,  Mr.  Davenport,"  said  Rose,  "but  I  have 
accepted  Ben's  escort." 


CHAPTER   VI 

TWO  YOUNG  RIVALS 

Tom  Davenport,  for  it  was  the  son  of  Squire  Davenport 
who  had  offered  his  escort  to  Rose,  glanced  superciliously 
at  our  hero. 

"I  congratulate  you  on  having  secured  a, grocer's  boy  as 
escort,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  annoyance. 

Ben's  fist  contracted,  and  he  longed  to  give  the  pretentious 
aristocrat  a  lesson,  but  he  had  the  good  sense  to  wait  for 
the  young  lady's  reply. 

"  I  accept  your  congratulations,  Mr.  Davenport,"  said  Rose, 
coldly.    "  I  have  no  desire  to  change  my  escort." 

Tom  Davenport  laughed  derisively,  and  walked  away. 

"  I'd  like  to  box  his  ears,"  said  Ben,  reddening. 

"  He  doesn't  deserve  your  nqtice,  Ben,"  said  Rose,  taking 
his  arm. 

But  Ben  was  not  easily  appeased. 

"  Just  because  his  father  is  a  rich  man,"  he  resumed. 

"  He  presumes  upon  it,"  interrupted  Rose,  good-naturedly. 
"  Well,  let  him.  That's  his  chief  claim  to  consideration,  and 
it  is  natural  for  him  to  make  the  most  of  it." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  hope  that  can't  be  «aid  of  me,"  returned 
Ben,  his  brow  clearing.  "  If  I  had  nothing  but  money  to  be 
proud  of,  I  should  be  very  poorly  off." 

"  You  wouldn't  object  to  it,  though." 

"No;  I  hope,  for  mother's  sake,  some  day  to  be  rich." 

"Most  of  our  rich  men  were  once  poor  boys,"  said  Rose, 
Quietly.  "  I  have  a  book  of  biographies  at  home,  and  I  find 
that  not  only  rich  men,  but  men  distinguished  in  other  ways, 
generally  commenced  in  poverty." 


32  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  I  wish  you'd  lend  me  that  book,"  said  Ben.  "  Sometimes 
I  get  despondent  and  that  will  give  me  courage." 

"  You  shall  have  it  whenever  you  call  at  the  house.  But 
you  mustn't  think  too  much  of  getting  money." 

"I  don't  mean  to;  but  I  should  like  to  make  my  mother 
comfortable.  I  don't  see  much  chance  of  it  while  I  remain 
a  '  grocer's  boy '  as  Tom  Davenport  calls  me." 

"  Better  be  a  grocer's  boy  than  spend  your  time  in  Idle- 
ness, as  Tom  does." 

"  Tom  thinks  it  beneath  him  to  work." 

"  If  his  father  had  been  of  the  same  mind  w^hen  he  was 
a  boy,  he  would  never  have  become  a  rich  man." 

"  Was  Squire  Davenport  a  poor  boy?  " 

"Yes;  so  uncle  told  me  the  other  day.  When  he  was  a 
boy  he  worked  on  a  farm.  I  don't  know  how  he  made  his 
money,  but  I  presume  he  laid  the  foundation  of  his  wealth 
by  hard  work.  So,  Tom  hasn't  any  right  to  look  down  upon 
those  who  are  beginning  now  as  his  father  began." 

They  had  by  this  time  traversed  half  the  distance  from 
the  Town  Hall  to  the  young  lady's  home.  The  subject  of 
conversation  was  changed  and  they  began  to  talk  about  the 
evening's  entertainment.  At  length  they  reached  the  minis- 
ter's house. 

"Won't  you  come  in,  Ben?"  asked  Rose. 

"  Isn't  it  too  late?  " 

"No;  uncle  always  sits  up  late  reading,  and  aunt  will  be 
glad  to  see  you." 

"  Then  I  will  come  in  for  a  few  minutes." 

Ben's  few  minutes  extended  to  three-quarters  of  an  hour. 
When  he  came  out,  the  moon  was  obscured  and  it  was  quite 
dark.  Ben  had  not  gone  far  when  he  heard  steps  behind  him, 
and  presently  a  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder. 

"Hello,  boy!"   said  a  rough  voice. 

Ben  started,  and,  turning  suddenly,  recognized,  in  spite  of 
the  darkness,  the  tramp  who  had  attempted  to  rob  him  dur- 
ing the  day.  He  paused,  uncertain  whether  he  was  not  going 
to  be  attacked,  but  the  tramp  laughed  reassuringly. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  boy,"  he  said.  "  I  owe  you  some  money^ 
and  here  it  is." 

He  pressed  into  the  hand  of  the  astonished  Ben  the  dollar 
which  our  hero  had  given  him. 

"  I  don't  think  it  will  do  me  any  good,"  he  said.  "  Fve 
given  it  back,  and  now  you  can't  say  I  robbed  you." 

"  You  are  a  strange  man,"  said  Ben. 

"  I'm  not  so  bad  as  I  look,"  said  the  tramp.  "  Some  day, 
I  may  do  you  a  service.  I'm  goin'  out  of  town  to-night, 
and  you'll  hear  from  me  again  some  time." 

He  turned  swiftly,  and  Ben  lost  sight  of  him. 


THE   STORE   BOY  33 

CHAPTER   VII 

THE  TRAMP  MAKES  ANOTHER  CALL 

My  readers  will  naturally  be  surprised  at  the  tramp's  res- 
titution of  a  coin,  which,  though  counterfeit,  he  would  prob- 
ably have  managed  to  pass,  but  this  chapter  will  throw  some 
light  on  his  mysterious  conduct. 

When  he  made  a  sudden  exit  from  Mrs.  Barclay's  house, 
upon  the  appearance  of  the  squire  and  his  friend,  he  did  not 
leave  the  premises,  but  posted  himself  at  a  window,  slightly 
open,  of  the  room  in  which  the  widow  received  her  new  vis- 
itors. He  listened  with  a  smile  to  the  squire's  attempt  to 
force  Mrs.  Barclay  to  sell  her  house. 

"He's  a  sly  old  rascal!"  thought  the  tramp.  "I'll  put  a 
spoke  in  his  wheel." 

When  the  squire  and  his  wife's  cousin  left  the  house,  the 
tramp  followed  at  a  little  distance.  Not  far  from  the  squire's 
handsome  residence  Kirk  left  him,  and  the  tramp  then  came 
boldly  forward. 

"  Good-evenin',"  he  said  familiarly. 

Squire  Davenport  turned  sharply,  and  as  his  eye  fell  on 
the  unprepossessing  figure,  he  instinctively  put  his  hand  in 
the  pocket  in  which  he  kept  his  wallet. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  demanded,  apprehensively. 

"  I  ain't  a  thief,  and  you  needn't  fear  for  your  wallet," 
iwas  the  reply. 

"Let  me  pass,  fellow!    I  can  do  nothing  for  you." 

"We'll  see  about  that!" 

"Do  you  threaten  me?  "  asked  Squire  Davenport,  in  alarm. 

"Not  at  all;  but  I've  got  some  business  with  you — some 
'important  business." 

"  Then  call  to-morrow  forenoon,"  said  Davenport,  anxious 
to  get  rid  of  his  ill-looking  acquaintance. 

"That  won't  do;  I  want  to  leave  town  to-night." 

"  That's  nothing  to  me." 

"  It  may  be,"  said  the  tramp,  significantly. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  the  husband  of  the  woman 
you  called  on  to-night." 

"The  husband  of  Mrs.  Barclay!  Why,  he  is  dead!"  ejacu- 
lated the  squire,  in  surprise. 

"  That  is  true.  Do  you  know  whether  he  left  any  prop- 
iBTty?  " 

"  No.    I  believe  not." 

"  That's  what  I  want  to  talk  about.  You'd  better  see  me 
iD-night." 

There  was  significance  in  the  tone  of  the  tramp,  and 
Squire  Davenport  looked  at  him  searchingly. 

"  Why  don't  you  go  and  see  Mrs.  Barclay  about  this  mat- 
ter? "  he  asked. 


34  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  I  may,  but  I  think  you'd  better  see  me  first." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  squire's  gate. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said,  briefly. 

The  squire  led  the  way  into  a  comfortable  sitting-room, 
and  his  rough  visitor  followed  him.  By  the  light  of  an  as-* 
tral  lamp  Squire  Davenport  looked  at  him. 

"Did  I  ever  see  you  before?"  he  asked. 

"  Probably  not." 

Then  I  don't  see  what  business  we  can  have  together.  1 
am  tired,  and  wish  to  go  to  bed." 

"  I'll  come  to  business  at  once,  then.  When  John  Barclay 
died,  in  Chicago,  a  wallet  was  found  in  his  pocket,  and  in 
that  wallet  was  a  promissory  note  for  a  thousand  dollars, 
signed  by  you.  I  suppose  you  have  paid  that  sum  to  the 
widow?  " 

Squire  Davenport  was  the  picture  of  dismay.  He  had 
meanly  ignored  the  note,  with  the  intention  of  cheating  Mrs. 
Barclay.  He  had  supposed  it  was  lost;  yet  here,  after  some 
years,  appeared  a  man  who  knew  of  it.  As  Mr.  Barclay  had 
been  reticent  about  his  business  affairs,  he  had  never  told 
his  wife  about  having  deposited  this  sum  with  Squire  Dav- 
enport, an  J  of  this  fact  the  squire  had  meanly  taken  advan- 
tage. 

"  What  proof  have  you  of  this  strange  and  improbable 
story?"  asked  the  squire,  after  a  nervous  pause. 

"  The  best  of  proof,"  answered  the  tramp,  promptly.  "  The 
note  was  found,  and  is  now  in  existence." 

"  Who  holds  it^that  is,  admitting  for  a  moment  the  truth; 
of  your  story?  " 

"I  do;  it  is  in  my  pocket  at  this  moment." 

At  this  moment  Tom  Davenport  opened  the  door  of  the 
apartment,  and  stared  in  open-eyed  amazement  at  his  fa-i 
ther's  singular  visitor. 

"  Leave  the  room,  Tom,"  said  his  father,  hastily.  "  This 
man  is  consulting  me  on  business." 

"  Is  that  your  son,  squire?  "  asked  the  tramp,  with  a  fa- 
miliar nod.     "  He's  quite  a  young  swell." 

"  What  business  can  my  father  have  with  such  a  cad? " 
thought  Tom,  disgusted. 

Tom  was  pleased,  nevertheless,  at  being  taken  for  "a 
young  swell." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

SQUIRE  DAVENPORT'S   FINANCIAL  OPERATION 

Squire  Davenport  was  a  thoroughly  respectable  man  in 
the  estimation  of  the  community.  That  such  a  man  was 
capable    of    defrauding   a   poor    widow,    counting    on    her 


THE    STORE    BOY  35 

ignorance,  would  have  plunged  all  his  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances into  the  profoundest  amazement. 

Yet  this  was  precisely  what  the  squire  had  done. 

Mr.  Barclay,  who  had  prospered  beyond  his  wife's  knowl- 
edge, found  himself  seven  years  before  in  possession  of  a 
thousand  dollars  in  hard  cash.  Knowing  that  the  squire  had 
a  better  knowledge  of  suitable  investments  than  he,  he  went 
to  him  one  day  and  asked  advice.  Now,  the  squire  was 
fond  of  money.  When  he  saw  the  ample  roll  of  bank  notes 
which  his  neighbor  took  from  his  wallet,  he  felt  a  desire 
to  possess  them.  They  would  not  be  his,  to  be  sure,  but 
merely  to  have  them  under  his  control  seemed  pleasant.  So 
he  said: 

"  Friend  Barclay,  I  should  need  time  to  consider  that  ques- 
tion.   Are  you  in  any  hurry?" 

"  I  should  like  to  get  the  money  out  of  my  possession.  I 
might  lose  it  or  have  it  stolen.  Besides,  I  don't  want  my 
wife  to  discover  that  I  have  it," 

"  It  might  make  her  extravagant,  perhaps,"  suggested  the 
squire. 

"  No,  I  am  not  afraid  of  that;  but  I  want  some  day  to  sur- 
prise her  by  letting  her  see  that  I  am  a  richer  man  than 
she  thinks." 

"Very  judicious!  Then  no  one  knows  that  you  have  the 
money?" 

"No  one;  I  keep  my  business  to  myself." 

"  You  are  a  wise  man.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do,  friend 
Barclay.  While  I  am  not  prepared  to  recommend  any  par- 
ticular investment,  I  will  take  the  money  and  give  you  my 
note  for  it,  agreeing  to  pay  six  per  cent,  interest.  Of  course 
I  shall  invest  it  in  some  way,  and  I  may  gain  or  I  may 
lose,  but  even  if  I  do  lose  you  will  be  safe,  for  you  will 
have  my  note,  and  will  receive  interest  semi-annually." 

The  proposal  struck  Mr.  Barclay  favorably. 

"  I  suppose  I  can  have  the  money  when  I  want  it  again?  " 
he  inquired. 

"Oh,  certainly!  I  may  require  a  month's  notice  to  realize 
on  securities;  but  if  I  have  the  money  in  bank  I  won't  even 
ask  that." 

"  Then  take  the  money,  squire,  and  give  me  the  note." 

So,  in  less  than  five  minutes,  the  money  found  its  way  into 
Squire  Davenport's  strong  box,  and  Mr.  Barclay  left  the 
squire's  presence  well  satisfied,  with  his  note  of  hand  in 
place  of  his  roll  of  greenbacks. 

Nearly  two  years  passed.  Interest  was  paid  punctually 
three  times,  and  another  payment  was  all  but  due  when  the 
unfortunate  cerditor  died  in  Chicago.  Then  it  was  that  a 
terrible  temptation  assailed  Squire  Davenport.  No  one  knew 
of  the  trust  his  neighbor  had  reposed  in  him — not  even  his 
wife.  Of  course,  if  the  note  was  found  in  his  pocket,  all 
.would  be  known.    But  perhaps  it  would  not  be  known.    In 


36  THE   STORE   BOY 

that  case,  the  thousand  dollars  and  thirty  dollars  interest 
might  be  retained  without  any  one  being  the  wiser.  It  is 
only  fair  to  say  that  Squire  Davenport's  face  flushed  with 
shame  as  the  unworthy  thought  came  to  him,  but  still  he 
did  not  banish  it.  He  thought  the  matter  over,  and  the 
more  he  thought  the  more  unwilling  he  was  to  give  up  this 
sum,  which  all  at  once  had  become  dearer  to  him  than  all 
the  rest  of  his  possessions. 

"  I'll  wait  to  see  whether  the  note  is  found,"  he  said  to 

himself.     "  Of  course  if  it  is,  I  will  pay  it "     That  is, 

he  would  pay  it  if  he  were  obliged  to  do  it. 

Poor  Barclay  was  buried  in  Chicago — it  would  have  been 
too  expensive  to  bring  on  the  body — and  pretty  soon  it  trans- 
pired that  he  had  left  no  property,  except  the  modest  cot- 
tage in  which  his  widow  and  son  continued  to  live. 

Poor  Mrs.  Barclay!  Everybody  pitied  her,  and  lamented 
her  straitened  circumstances.  Squire  Davenport  kept  si- 
lence, and  thought,  with  guilty  joy,  "  They  haven't  found  the 
note;  I  can  keep  the  money,  and  no  one  will  be  the  wiser! " 

How  a  rich  man  could  have  been  guilty  of  such  consum- 
mate meanness  I  will  not  undertake  to  explain,  but  "  the  love 
of  money  is  the  root  of  evil,"  and  Squire  Davenport  had  love 
of  money  in  no  common  measure. 

Five  years  passed.  Mrs.  Barclay  was  obliged  to  mortgage 
her  house  to  obtain  the  means  of  living,  and  the  very  man 
who  supplied  her  with  the  money  was  the  very  man  whom 
her  husband  had  blindly  trusted.  She  little  dreamed  that 
it  was  her  own  money  he  was  doling  out  to  her. 

In  fact.  Squire  Davenport  himself  had  almost  forgotten  it. 
He  had  come  to  consider  the  thousand  dollars  and  interest 
fully  and  absolutely  his  own,  and  had  no  apprehension  that 
his  mean  fraud  would  ever  be  discovered.  Like  a  thunderbolt, 
then,  came  to  him  the  declaration  of  his  unsavory  visitor 
that  the  note  was  in  existence,  and  was  in  the  hands  of  a 
man  who  meant  to  use  it.  Smitten  with  sudden  panic,  he 
stared  in  the  face  of  the  tramp.  But  he  was  not  going  to 
give  up  without  a  struggle. 

"  You  are  evidently  trying  to  impose  upon  me,"  he  said, 
mentally  bracing  up.    "  You  wish  to  extort  money  from  me." 

"  So  I  do,"  said  the  tramp,  quietly. 

"Ha!  you  admit  it?"  exclaimed  the  squire. 

"  Certainly;  I  wouldn't  have  taken  the  trouble  to  come 
here  at  great  expense  and  inconvenience,  if  I  hadn't  been 
expecting  to  make  some  money." 

"  Then  you've  come  to  the  wrong  person;  I  repeat  it,  you've 
come  to  the  wrong  person!"  said  the  squire,  straightening 
his  back  and  eying  his  companion  sternly. 

"  I  begin  to  think  I  have/'  assented  the  visitor. 

"  Ha!  he  weakens!  "  thought  Squire  Davenport.  "  My  good 
man,  I  recommend  you  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf,  and  seek  to 


THE   STORE   BOY  39 

^^^^'  No  " 
on  "     ^* 

u'  That  IS  strange,"  said  Ben,  thoughtfully.    "  Do  you  know, 

«« jother,  I  met  him  on  my  way  home,  or  rather,  he  came  up 

(ihind  me  and  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder." 
si\  "  What  did  he  say?  "  asked  Mrs.  Barclay,  eagerly. 

"  He  gave  me  back  the  bogus  dollar  he  took  from  me,  say- 
„„  g,  with  a  laugh,  that  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  him.  Then 
gQj^  said  he  might  do  me  a  service  some  time,  and  I  would 

"me  day  hear  from  him." 
pgj.,"  Ben,  I  think  that  man  took  the  papers  from  the  pocket 
^  "'your  dying  father,  and  has  them  now  in  his  possession. 

«jl  promised  to  sell  me  a  secret  for  money,  but  I  told  him 

"  jad  none  to  give." 
mus'  ^  "^^'ish  v,e  could  see  him  again,  but  he  said  he  should 

"  ye  town  to-night.  But,  mother,  what  was  the  bad  news 
the  :  spoke  of?" 

"jBen,  I  am  afraid  we  are  going  to  lose  our  home,"  said 
jjgQ^jWidow,  the  look  of  trouble  returning  to  her  face. 

"gWhat  do  you  mean,  mother?" 
fQj,  vYou  know  that  Squire  Davenport  has  a  mortgage  on  the 
jjj  ace  for  seven  hundred  dollars;  he  was  here  to-night  with 
(jj-   man  named  Kirk,  some  connection  of  his  wife.     It  seems 

ark  is  coming  to  Pentcnville  to  live,  and  wants  this  house." 
Y     "  He  will  have  to  want  it,  mother,"  said  Ben,  stoutly. 
I      "Not  if  tlie  squire  backs  him,  as  he  does;  he  threatens 
jjto  foreclose  tlie  mortgage  if  I  don't  sell." 

Ben  comprehended  the  situation  now,  and  appreciated  its 
(j(.Tavity.- 

^  .  "  What  does  he  offer,  mother?" 
„j-i"A  thousand  dollars  only — perhaps  a  little  more." 
^gj^"\Vhy  that  would  be  downright  robberj." 

"■■'  Not  in  the  eye  of  the  law.    Ben,  we  are  in  the  power  of 
takf^^^®  Davenport,  and  he  is  a  hard  man." 
half  ^  would  like  to  give  him  a  piece  of  my  mind,  mother. 

"-^might  be  in  better  business  than  robbing  you  of  your 

"  Y('^o  nothing  hastily,  Ben.  There  is  only  one  thing  that 
cantlv  '^  do  to  save  the  house,  and  that  is,  to  induce  some  one 
my  tei  '^^^^6  the  money  necessary  to  take  up  the  mortgage." 

In  thi"^  y°^  think  of  anybody  who  would  do  it?  " 
lars   anQ^^^^'^y  shook  her  head. 
inat'ion    i'®  *^  ^^  *-"^^  '''^  Pentonville  Who  would  be  willing,  and 

"  Now "  ^o^ey/'  she  said.  "  I  have  a  rich  cousin  in  New 
foreer " '        ^  have   not   met  him   since   I   was   married;   he 

'  Go'od-evc^®^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^®  once,  but  I  suppose  he  scarcely 
nodding  to  t'^^  now.  He  lived,  when  I  last  heard  of  him,  on 
anma  Hmo  »     ^uuc,  and  his  name  is  Absalom  Peters." 

"t*  rich'?" 

If  you  come  ■  i:    t  x,  t       „ 

"So  much  the*^'^'  ^  believe." 
TiavQ  omnvori  rr,v  t  miud  to  ask  for  a  day's  vacation  frona  Mr, 
nave  enjoy ea  my     ^^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^„ 


40  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  I  am  afraid  it  would  do  no  good." 

"  It  would  do  no  harm,  except  that  it  would  cost  some- 
thing for  traveling  expenses.  But  I  would  go  as  econom- 
ically as  possible.     Have  I  your  permission,  mother?" 

"You  can  do  as  you  like,  Ben;  I  won't  forbid  you,  though 
I  have  little  hope  of  its  doing  any  good." 

"  Then  I  will  try  and  get  away  Monday.  To-morrow  is 
Saturday,  and  I  can't  be  spared  at  the  store;  there  is  always 
more  doing,  you  know,  on  Saturday  than  any  other  day." 

"  I  don't  feel  like  giving  any  advice,  Ben.  Do  as  you 
please." 

The  next  day,  on  his  way  home  to  dinner,  Ben  met  his 
young  rival  of  the  evening  previous,  Tom  Davenport. 

"  How  are  you,  Tom?  "  said  Ben,  nodding. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you,  Ben  Barclay,"  said  the  young 
aristocrat,  pausing  in  his  walk. 

"Go  ahead!     I'm  listening,"  said  Ben. 

Tom  was  rather  annoyed  at  the  want  of  respect  which,  in 
his  opinion,  Ben  showed  him,  but  hardly  knew  how  to  ex- 
press his  objections,  so  he  came  at  once  to  the  business  in 
hand. 

"  You'd  better  not  hang  around  Rose  Gardiner  so  much," 
he  said,  superciliously. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  demanded  Ben,  quickly. 

"  You  forced  your  attentions  on  her  last  evening  at  the 
Town  Hall." 

"  Who  told  you  so?  " 

"  I  saw  it  for  myself." 

*'  I  thought  Rose  didn't  tell  you  so." 

"  It  must  be  disagreeable  to  her  family  to  have  a  common 
grocer's  boy  seen  with  her." 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  take  a  great  deal  of  interest  in  the 
matter,  Tom  Davenport,  You  talk  as  if  you  were  the  guar- 
dian of  the  young  lady.  I  believe  you  wanted  to  go  home 
with  her  yourself." 

"  It  would  have  been  much  more  suitable,  but  you  had 
m'ade  her  promise  to  go  with  you." 

"  I  would  have  released  her  from  her  promise  at  once, 
if  she  had  expressed  a  wish  to  that  effect.  Now,  Tom  Dav- 
enport, I  want  to  give  you  a  piece  of  advice." 

"  I  don't  want  any  of  your  advice,"  said  Tom,  loftily.  "  I 
don't  want  any  advice  from  a  store  boy." 

"  I'll  give  it  to  you  all  the  same.  You  can  make  money 
by  minding  your  own  business." 

"You  are  impudent!"  said  Tom,  flushing  with  anger. 
"  I've  got  something  more  to  tell  you.  You'll  be  out  on  the 
sidewalk  before  three  months  are  over.  Father  is  going  to 
foreclose  the  mortgage  on  your  house." 

"That  remains  to  be  seen!"  said  Ben,  but  his  heart  sank 
within  him  as  he  realized  that  the  words  would  probably 
prove  true. 


THE   STORE   BOY  '^41 

CHAPTER   X 

BEN  GOES   TO  NEW  YORK 

Pentonville  was  thirty-five  miles  distant  from  New  York, 
and  the  fare  was  a  dollar,  but  an  excursion  ticket,  carrying 
a  passenger  both  ways,  was  only  a  dollar  and  a  half.  Ben 
calculated  that  his  extra  expenses,  including  dinner,  might 
amount  to  fifty  cents,  thus  making  the  cost  of  the  trip  two 
dollars.  This  sum,  small  as  it  was,  appeared  large  both  to 
Ben  and  his  mother.  Some  doubts  about  the  expediency  of 
the  journey  suggested  themselves  to  Mrs.  Barclay. 

"Do  you  think  you  had  better  go,  Ben?"  she  said,  doubt- 
fully. "  Two  dollars  would  buy  you  some  new  stockings 
and  handkerchiefs." 

"  I  will  do  without  them,  mother.  Something  has  got  to 
be  done,  or  we  shall  be  turned  into  the  street  when  three 
months  are  up.  Squire  Davenport  is  a  very  selfish  man, 
and  he  will  care  nothing  for  our  comfort  or  convenience." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  the  widow,  with  a  sigh.  "  If  I  thought 
your  going  to  New  York  would  do  any  good,  I  would  not 
grudge  you  the  money " 

"  Something  will  turn  up,  or  I  will  turn  up  something," 
said  Ben,  confidently. 

When  he  asked  Mr.  Crawford  for  a  day  off,  the  latter  re- 
sponded :  "  Yes,  Ben,  I  think  I  can  spare  you,  as  Monday  is 
not  a  very  busy  day.  Would  you  be  willing  to  do  an  errand 
for  me?" 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Crawford,  with  pleasure." 

"  I  need  a  new  supply  of  prints.  Go  to  Stackpole  &  Rogers, 
No.  —  White  Street,  and  select  me  some  attractive  patterns. 
I  shall  rely  upon  your  taste." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Ben,  gratified  by  the  compliment. 

He  received  instructions  as  to  price  and  quantity,  which 
he  carefully  noted  down. 

"  As  it  will  save  me  a  journey,  not  to  speak  of  my  time,  I 
am  willing  to  pay  your  fare  one  way." 

"  Thank  you,  sir;  you  are  very  kind." 

Mr.  Crawford  took  from  the  money  drawer  a  dollar,  and 
handed  it  to  Ben. 

"  But  I  buy  an  excursion  ticket,  so  that  my  fare  each  way 
will  be  but  seventy-five  cents." 

"  Never  mind,  the  balance  will  go  toward  your  dinner." 

"  There,  mother,  what  do  you  say  now?  "  said  Ben,  on  Sat- 
urday night.  "  Mr.  Crawford  is  going  to  pay  half  my  ex- 
penses, and  I  am  going  to  buy  some  goods  for  him." 

"  I  am  glad  he  reposes  so  much  confidence  in  you,  Ben, 
I  hope  you  won't  lose  his  money." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  carry  any.  He  buys  on  thirty  days.  All  I 
have  to  do  is  to  select  the  goods." 


42  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  Perhaps  it  is  for  the  best  that  you  go,  after  all,"  said 
Mrs.  Barclay.    "  At  any  rate,  I  hope  so." 

At  half-past  seven  o'clock  on  Monday  morning  Ben  stood 
on  the  platform  of  the  Pentonville  station,  awaiting  the  ar- 
rival of  the  train. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  said  a  voice. 

Ben,  turning,  saw  that  it  was  Tom  Davenport  who  had 
spoken. 

"  I  am  going  to  New  York,"  he  answered,  briefly. 

"  Has  Crawford  discharged  you?  " 

"Why  do  you  ask?  Would  you  like  to  apply  for  the  po- 
sition?" asked  Ben,  coolly. 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  condescend  to  be  a  grocer's  boy?  " 
returned  Tom,  disdainfully. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  If  I  go  into  business  it  will  be  as  a  merchant." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

"You  didn't  say  what  you  were  going  to  New  York  for?" 

"I  have  no  objection  to  tell  you,  as  you  are  anxious  to 
know;  I  am  going  to  the  city  to  buy  goods." 

Tom  looked  not  only  amazed  but  incredulous. 

"  That's  a  likely  story,"  said  he,  after  a  pause. 

"  It  is  a  true  story." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  Crawford  trusts  you  to  buy  goods 
for  him?  " 

"  So  it  seems." 

"  He  must  be  getting  weak-headed." 

"  Suppose  you  call  and  give  him  that  gratifying  piece  of 
information." 

Just  then  the  train  came  thundering  up,  and  Ben  jumped 
aboard.  Tom  Davenport  looked  after  him  with  a  puzzled 
glance. 

"  I  wonder  whether  that  boy  tells  the  truth,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "  He  thinks  too  much  of  himself,  considering  what 
he  is." 

It  never  occurred  to  Tom  that  the  remark  would  apply  even 
better  to  him  than  the  boy  he  was  criticising.  As  a  rule 
we  are  the  last  to  recognize  our  ov^m  faults,  however  quick 
we  may  be  to  see  the  faults  of  others. 

Two  hours  later  Ben  stood  in  front  of  the  large  drygoods 
jobbing  house  of  Stackpole  &  Rogers,   in  White  Street. 

He  ascended  a  staircase  to  the  second  floor,  which  was 
yery  spacious  and  filled  with  goods  in  great  variety. 

"Where  is  the  department  of  prints?"  he  inquired  of  a 
young  man  near  the  door. 

He  was  speedily  directed  and  went  over  at  once.  He 
showed  the  salesman  in  charge  a  letter  from  Mr.  Crawford, 
authorizing  him  to  select  a  certain  amount  of  goods. 

"  You  are  rather  a  young  buyer,"  said  the  salesman,  smil- 
ing. 

"  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  served  in  that  way,"  said 


THE    STORE   BOY  43 

Ben,  modestly;  "  but  I  know  pretty  well  what  Mr.  Crawford 
wants." 

Half  an  hour  was  consumed  in  making  his  selections. 

"  You  have  good  taste,"  said  the  salesman,  "  judging  from 
your  selections." 

"  Thank  you." 

"  If  you  ever  come  to  the  city  to  look  for  work,  come  here, 
and  I  will  introduce  you  to  the  firm." 

"Thank  you.     How  soon  can  you  ship  the  goods?" 

"  I  am  afraid  not  to-day,  as  we  are  very  busy.  Early  next 
week  we  will  send  them." 

His  business  concluded,  Ben  left  the  store  and  walked  up 
to  Broadway.  The  crowded  thoroughfare  had  much  to  in- 
terest him.  He  was  looking  in  at  a  window  when  some  oii.© 
tapped  him  on  the  shoulder. 

It  was  a  young  man  foppishly  attired,  who  was  smiling 
graciously  upon  him. 

"  Why,  Gus  Andre,"  he  said,  "  when  did  you  come  to  town, 
and  how  did  you  leave  all  the  folks  in  Bridgeport?" 

"  You  have  made  a  mistake,"  said  Ben. 

"  Isn't  your  name  Gus  Andre?  " 

"  No,  it  is  Ben  Barclay,  from  Pentonville." 

"  I  really  beg  your  pardon.  You  look  surprisingly  like  my; 
friend  Gussie." 

Five  minutes  later  there  was  another  tap  on  our  hero's 
shoulder,  as  he  was  looking  into  another  window,  and  an- 
other nicely  dressed  young  man  said,  heartily :  "  Why,  Ben, 
my  boy,  when  did  you  come  to  town?  " 

"  This  morning,"  answered  Ben.  "  You  seem  to  know  me, 
but  I  can't  remember  you." 

"Are  you  not  Ben  Barclay,  of  Pentonville?" 

"Yes,  but " 

"Don't  you  remember  Jim  Fisher,  who  passed  part  of 
the  summer,  two  years  since,  in  your  village?" 

"  Where  were  you  staying?  "  asked  Ben. 

It  was  the  other's  turn  to  look  confused. 

"At — the  Smiths',"  he  answered,  at  random. 

"  At  Mrs.  Roxana  Smith's  ?  "  suggested  Ben. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  other,  eagerly,  "  she  is  my  aunt." 

"  Is  she?  "  asked  Ben,  with  a  smile  of  amusement,  for  he 
had  by  this  time  made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  character  of 
his  new  friend.  "  She  must  be  proud  of  her  stylish  nephew. 
Mrs.  Smith  is  a  poor  widow,  and  takes  in  washing," 

"  It's  some  other  Smith,"  said  the  young  man,  discomfited. 

"  She  is  the  only  one  by  that  name  in  Pentonville." 

Jim  Fisher,  as  he  called  himself,  turned  upon  his  heel  and 
left  Ben  without  a  word.  It  was  clear  that  nothing  could  be 
made  out  of  him. 

Ben  walked  all  the  way  up  Broadway,  as  far  as  Twenty- 
first  Street,  into  whicl^  he  turned,  and  walked  eastward  until 
he  reached  Gramercy  Park,  opposite  which  Lexington  Av- 


44  THE    STORE    BOY 

enue  starts.  In  due  time  he  reached  the  house  of  Mr.  Ab- 
salom Peters,   and,  ascending  the  steps,  he  rang  the  bell. 

"  Is  Mr.  Peters  in?"  he  asked  of  the  servant  who  answered 
the  bell. 

"  No." 

"  Will  he  be  in  soon?" 

"  L  guess  not.     He  sailed  for  Europe  last  week." 

Ben's  heart  sank  within  him.  He  had  hoped  much  from 
Mr.  Peters,  before  whom  he  meant  to  lay  all  the  facts  of 
his  mother's  situation.    Now  that  hope  was  crushed. 

He  turned,  and  slowly  descended  the  steps. 

"  There  goes  our  last  chance  of  saving  the  house,"  he  said 
to  himself,  sadly. 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE   MADISON   AVENUE    STAGE 

Ben  was  naturally  hopeful,  but  he  had  counted  more  than 
he  was  aware  on  the  chance  of  obtaining  assistance  from 
Absalom  Peters  toward  paying  off  his  mother's  mortgage. 
As  Mr.  Peters  was  in  Europe  nothing  could  be  done,  and 
there  seemed  absolutely  no  one  else  to  apply  to.  They  had 
friends,  of  course,  and  warm  ones,  in  Pentonville,  but  none 
that  were  able  to  help  them. 

"  I  suppose  we  must  make  up  our  minds  to  lose  the  house," 
thought  Ben.  "  Squire  Davenport  is  selfish  and  grasping, 
and  there  is  little  chance  of  turning  him." 

He  walked  westward  till  he  reached  Madison  Avenue.  A 
stage  approached,  being  bound  downtown^  and,  feeling  tired, 
he  got  in.  The  fare  was  but  five  cents,  and  he  was  willing 
to  pay  it. 

Some  half  dozen  other  passengers  beside  himself  were  in 
the  stage.  Opposite  Ben  sat  a  handsomely  dressed,  some- 
what portly  lady,  of  middle  age,  with  a  kindly  expression. 
Next  her  sat  a  young  man,  attired  fashionably,  who  had 
the  appearance  of  belonging  to  a  family  of  position.  There 
were,  besides,  an  elderly  man,  of  clerical  appearance;  a 
nurse  with  a  small  child,  a  business  man,  intent  upon  the 
financial  column  of  a  leading  paper,  and  a  schoolboy. 

Ben  regarded  his  fellow-passengers  with  interest.  In 
Pentonville  he  seldom  saw  a  new  face.  Here  all  were  new. 
Our  young  hero  was,  though  he  did  not  know  it,  an  embryo 
student  of  human  nature.  He  liked  to  observe  men  and 
women  of  different  classes  and  speculate  upon  their  prob- 
able position  and  traits.  It  so  happened  that  his  special 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  fashionably-attired  young 
man. 


THE    STORE   BOY  45 

"  I  suppose  he  belongs  to  a  rich  family,  and  has  plenty  of 
money,"  thought  Ben.  "  It  must  be  pleasant  to  be  born  with 
a  gold,  spoon  in  your  mouth,  and  know  that  you  are  provided 
for  life." 

If  Ben  had  been  wiser  he  would  have  judged  differently. 
To  be  born  to  wealth  removes  all  the  incentives  to  action, 
and  checks  the  spirit  of  enterprise.  A  boy  or  a  man  who 
fmds  himself  gradually  rising  in  the  world,  through  his 
own  exertions,  experiences  a  satisfaction  unknown  to  one 
whose  fortune  is  ready  made.  However,  in  Ben's  present 
strait  it  is  no  wonder  he  regarded  with  envy  the  supposed 
young  man  of  fortune. 

Our  hero  was  destined  to  be  strangely  surprised.  His 
eyes  were  unusually  keen,  and  enabled  him  after  a  while  to 
observe  some  rather  remarkable  movements  on  the  part  of 
the  young  man.  Though  his  eyes  were  looking  elsewhere, 
Ben  could  see  that  his  right  hand  was  stealthily  insinuating 
itself  into  the  pocket  of  the  richly-dressed  lady  at  his  side. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  he  is  a  pickpocket?  "  thought  Ben,  in 
amazement.     "So  nicely  dressed  as  he  is,  too!" 

It  did  not  occur  to  Ben  that  he  dressed  well  the  better  to 
avert  suspicion  from  his  real  character.  Besides,  a  man  who 
lives  at  other  people's  expense  can  afford  to  dress  well. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  thought  Ben,  disturbed  in  mind. 
"  Ought  I  not  to  warn  the  lady  that  she  is  in  danger  of 
losing  her  money?  " 

While  he  was  hesitating  the  deed  was  accomplished.  A 
pearl  portemonnaie  was  adroitly  drawn  from  the  lady's 
pocket  and  transferred  to  that  of  the  young  man.  It  was 
done  with  incredible  swiftness,  but  Ben's  sharp  eyes  saw  it. 

The  young  man  yawned,  and,  turning  away  from  the  lady 
appeared  to  be  looking  out  of  a  window  at  the  head  of 
the  coach. 

"  Why,  there  is  Jack  Osborne,"  he  said,  half  audibly,  and, 
rising,  pulled  the  strap  for  the  driver  to  stop  the  stage. 

Then  was  the  critical  moment  for  Ben.  Was  he  to  allow 
the  thief  to  escape  with  the  money?  Ben  hated  to  get  into 
a  disturbance,  but  he  felt  that  it  would  be  wrong  and  cow- 
ardly to  be  silent. 

"  Before  you  get  out,"  he  said,  "  hand  that  lady  her  pocket- 
book." 

The  face  of  the  pickpocket  changed  and  he  darted  a  ma- 
lignant glance  at  Ben. 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  young  scoundrel?"  he  said. 

"  You  have  taken  that  lady's  pocketbook,"  persisted  Ben. 

"Do  you  mean  to  insult  me?" 

"  I  saw  you  do  it." 

With  a  half  exclamation  of  anger,  the  young  man  darted 
to  the  door.  But  he  w^.s  brought  to  a  standstill  by  the  busi- 
ness man,  who  placed' himself  in  his  way. 

"  Not  so  fast,  young  man,"  he  said,  resolutely. 


46  THE    STOHE   BOY 

"Out  of  the  way!"  exclaimed  the  thief,  in  a  rage.  "It's 
all  a  base  lie.    I  never  was  so  insulted  in  my  life." 

"Do  you  miss  your  pocketbook,  madam?."  asked  the  gen- 
tleman, turning  to  the  lady  who  had  been  robbed. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  It  was  in  the  pocket  next  to  this 
man." 

The  thief  seeing  there  was  no  hope  of  retaining  his  booty, 
•drew  it  from  hisi pocket  and  flung  it  into  the  lady's  lap. 

"Now,  may  I  go?"  he  said. 

There  was  no  policeman  in  sight,  and  at  a  nod  from  the 
lady,  the  pickpocket  was  allowed  to  leave  the  stage. 

"  You  ought  to  have  had  him  arrested.  He  is  a  dangerous 
character,"  said  the  gentleman  who  had  barred  his  progress. 

"  It  would  have  been  inconvenient  for  me  to  appear  against 
him,"  said  the  lady.     "  I  am  willing  to  let  him  go." 

"  Well,  there  is  one  comfort — if  he  keeps  on  he  will  be 
hauled  up  sooner  or  later,"  remarked  the  gentleman. 
"Would  your   loss  have  been  a  heavy  one?"  he  inquired. 

"  I  had  quite  a  large  sum  in  my  pocketbook,  over  two  hun- 
dred dollars.  But  for  my  young  friend  opposite,"  she  said, 
nodding  kindly  at  Ben,  "  I  should  have  lost  it  with  very  small 
chance  of  recovery." 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  done  you  a  service,  madam,"  said 
Ben,  politely. 

"  I  know  it  is  rather  imprudent  to  carry  so  large  a  sum 
about  with  me,"  continued  the  lady,  "  but  I  have  a  payment 
to  make  to  a  carpenter  who  has  done  work  in  my  house,  and 
I  thought  he  might  not  find  it  convenient  to  use  a  check." 

"A  lady  is  in  more  danger  than  a  gentleman,"  observed 
the  business  man,  "  as  she  cannot  so  well  hide  away  her 
pocketbook.  You  will  need  to  be  careful  as  you  walk  along 
the  street." 

"  I  think  it  will  be  best  to  have  a  neighbor  whom  I  can 
trust,"  said  the  lady.  "  Would  you  mind  taking  this  seat  at 
my  side?"  she  continued,  addressing  Ben. 

"  I  will  change  with  pleasure,"  said  our  hero,  taking  the 
seat  recently  vacated  by  the  pickpocket. 

"  You  have  sharp  eyes,  my  young  friend,"  said  his  new 
acquaintance. 

"  My  eyes  are  pretty  good,"  said  Ben,  with  a  smile. 

"  They  have  done  me  good  service  to-day.  May  I  know 
to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  such  timely  help?" 

"My  name  is  Benjamin  Barclay." 

"Do  you  live  in  the  city?" 

"  No,  madam.  I  live  in  Pentonville,  about  thirty  miles 
ffrom  New  York." 

"  I  have  heard  of  the  place.  Are  you  proposing  to  live 
here?" 

"  No,  madam.  I  came  in  to-day  on  a  little  business  of  my 
own,  and  also  to  select  some  goods  for  a  country  store  in 
which  I  am  employed." 


THE    STORE   BOY  47 

"  You  are  rather  young  for  such  a  commission." 

"  I  know  the  sort  of  goods  Mr.  Crawford  sells,  so  it  was 
not  very  difficult  to  make  the  selection." 

"  At  what  time  do  you  go  back?  " 

"  By  the  four  o'clock  train." 

"  Have  you  anything  to  do  meanwhile?  " 

"  No,  madam,"  answered  Ben,  a  little  surprised. 

"  Then  I  should  like  to  have  you  accompany  me  to  the 
place  where  I  am  to  settle  my  bill.  I  feel  rather  timid  after 
my  adventure  with  our  late  fellow-passenger." 

"  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  oblige  you,  madam,"  said  Ben, 
politely. 

He  had  just  heard  a  public  clock  strike  one  and  he  knew, 
therefore,  that  he  would  have  plenty  of  time. 


CHAPTER   XII 
ben's  luck 

"We  will  get  out  here,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

They  had  reached  the  corner  of  Fourth  Street  and  Broad- 
way. 

Ben  pulled  the  strap,  and  with  his  new  friend  left  the 
stage.  He  offered  his  hand  politely  to  assist  the  lady  in 
descending. 

"  He  is  a  little  gentleman,"  thought  Mrs.  Hamilton,  who 
was  much  pleased  with  our  hero. 

They  turned  from  Broadway  eastward,  and  presently 
crossed  the  Bowery  also.  Not  far  to  the  east  of  the  last  av- 
enue they  came  to  a  carpenter's  shop. 

Mr.  Plank,  a  middle-aged,  honest-looking  mechanic,  looked 
up  in  surprise  when  Mrs.  Hamilton  entered  the  shop. 

"You  didn't  expect  a  call  from  me?"  said  the  lady,  pleas- 
antly. 

"  No,  ma'am.  Fashionable  ladies  don't  often  find  their 
way  over  here." 

"  Then  don't  look  upon  me  as  a  fashionable  lady.  I  like 
to  attend  to  my  business  myself,  and  have  brought  you  the 
money  for  your  bill." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am.  You  never  made  me  wait.  But  I 
am  sorry  you  had  the  trouble  to  come  to  my  shop.  I  would 
have  called  at  your  house  if  you  had  sent  me  a  postal." 

"  My  time  is  not  so  valuable  as  yours,  Mr.  Plank.  I  must 
tell  you,  however,  that  you  came  near  not  getting  your 
money  this  morning.  Ajiother  person  undertook  to  collect 
your  bill." 

"  Who  was  it?  "  demanded  the  carpenter,  indignantly.    "  If 


48  THE   STORE   BOY 

there's  anybody  playing  such  tricks  on  me  I'll  have  him  up 
before  the  courts." 

"  It  was  no  acquaintance  of  yours.  The  person  in  ques- 
tion had  no  spite  against  you  and  you  would  only  have  suf- 
fered a  little  delay." 

Then  Mrs.  Hamilton  explained  how  a  pickpocket  had  un- 
dertaken to  relieve  her  of  her  wallet,  and  would  have  suc- 
ceeded but  for  her  young  companion. 

"  Oh,  they're  mighty  sharp,  ma'am,  I  can  tell  you,"  said 
the  carpenter.  "  I  never  lost  anything,  because  I  don't  look 
as  if  I  had  anything  worth  stealing;  but  if  one  of  those  ras- 
cals made  up  his  mind  to  rob  me,  ten  to  one  he'd  do  it." 

Mr.  Plank  receipted  his  bill  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  paid  him 
a  hundred  and  eighty-seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents.  Ben 
could  not  help  envying  him,  as  he  saw  the  roll  of  bills  trans- 
ferred to  him. 

"  I  hope  the  work  was  done  satisfactory,"  said  Mr.  Plank. 
(Perfect  grammar  could  not  be  expected  of  a  man  who,  fi^om 
the  age  of  twelve,  had  been  forced  to  earn  his  own  living.) 

"  Quite  so,  Mr.  Plank,"  said  the  lady,  graciously.  "  I  shall 
send  for  you  when  I  have  any  more  work  to  be  done." 

There  was  no  more  business  to  attend  to,  and  Mrs,  Hamil- 
ton led  the  way  out,  accompanied  by  Ben. 

"  I  will  trouble  you  to  see  me  as  far  as  Broadway,"  said 
the  lady.  "  I  am  not  used  to  this  neighborhood  and  prefer 
to  have  an  escort." 

"  I  didn't  think  this  morning,"  said  Ben  to  himself,  "  that 
a  rich  lady  would  select  me  as  her  escort." 

On  the  whole  he  liked  it.  It  gave  him  a  feeling  of  im- 
portance, and  a  sense  of  responsibility  which  a  manly  boy 
always  likes. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  stay  with  you  as  long  as  you  like,"  said 
Ben. 

"  Thank  you,  Benjamin,  or,  shall  I  say  Ben?  " 

"  I  wish  you  would.  I  hardly  know  myself  when  I  am 
called  Benjamin." 

"  As  we  are  walking  alone,  suppose  you  tell  me  something 
of  yourself.  I  only  know  your  name,  and  that  you  live  in 
Pentonville.     What  relations  have  you?" 

"A  mother  only — my  father  is  dead." 

"And  you  help  take  care  of  your  mother,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes;  father  left  us  nothing  except  the  house  we  live  in, 
or,  at  least,  we  could  get  track  of  no  other  property.  He  died 
In  Chicago  suddenly." 

"  I  hope  you  are  getting  along  comfortably — ^you  and  your 
mother,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  kindly. 

"  We  have  our  troubles,"  answered  Ben.  "  We  are  in  dan- 
ger of  having  our  house  taken  from  us." 

"How  is  that?" 

"  A  rich  man  in  our  village,  Squire  Davenport,  has  a  mort- 
gage of  seven  hundred  dollars  upon  it.    He  wants  the  house 


THE   STORE   BOY  49 

for  a  relative  of  his  wife,  and  threatens  to  foreclose  at  the 
end  of  three  months." 

"  The  house  must  be  worth  a  good  deal  more  than  the 
mortgage?" 

"  It  is  worth  twice  as  much;  but  if  it  is  put  up  at  auction 
I  doubt  if  it  will  fetch  over  a  thousand  dollars." 

"This  would  leave  your  mother  but  three  hundred?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Ben,  despondingly. 

"  Have  you  thought  of  any  way  of  raising  the  money?  " 

"Yes;  I  came  up  to  the  city  to-day  to  see  a  cousin  of 
mother's,  a  Mr.  Absalom  Peters,  who  lives  on  Lexington  Av- 
enue, and  I  had  just  come  from  there  when  I  got  into  the 
stage  with  you." 

"Won't  he  help  you?" 

"Perhaps  he  might  if  he  was  in  the  city;  though  mother 
has  seen  nothing  of  him  for  twenty  years;  but,  unfortunately, 
he  just  sailed  for  Europe." 

"  That  is  indeed  a  pity.  I  suppose  you  haven't  much  hope 
now?" 

"  Unless  Mr.  Peters  comes  back.  He  is  the  only  one  we  can 
think  of  to  call  upon." 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  is  this  Squire  Davenport?  " 

"  He  is  a  very  selfish  man,  who  thinks  only  of  his  own  in- 
terest. We  felt  safe,  because  we  did  not  suppose  he  would 
have  any  use  for  a  small  house  like  ours;  but  night  before 
last  he  called  on  mother  with  the  man  he  wants  it  for." 

"He  cannot  foreclose  just  yet,  can  he?"  asked  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton. 

"  No ;  we  have  three  months  to  look  around." 

"  Three  months  is  a  long  time,"  said  the  lady,  cheerfully. 
"  A  good  deal  can  happen  in  three  months.  Do  the  best  you 
can,  and  keep  up  hope." 

"I  shall  try  to  do  so." 

"  You  have  reason  to  do  so.  You  may  not  save  your  house, 
but  you  have,  probably,  a  good  many  years  before  you,  and 
plenty  of  good  fortune  may  be  in  store  for  you." 

The  cheerful  tone  in  which  the  lady  spoke  somehow  made 
Ben  hopeful  and  sanguine,  at  any  rate,  for  the  time  being. 

"  In  this  country,  the  fact  that  you  are  a  poor  boy  will  not 
stand  in  the  way  of  your  success.  The  most  eminent  men  of 
the  day,  in  all  branches  of  business,  and  in  all  professions, 
were  once  poor  boys.  I  dare  say,  looking  at  me,  you  don't 
suppose  I  ever  knew  anything  of  poverty." 

"  No,"  said  Ben. 

"  Yet  I  was  the  daughter  of  a  bankrupt  farmer  and  my 
husband  was  clerk  in  ^  country  store.  I  am  not  going  to 
tell  you  how  he  came  to  the  city  and  prospered,  leaving  me, 
at  his  death,  rich  beyond  my  needs.  Yet  that  is  his  history 
and  mine.    Does  it  encourage  you?" 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  answered  Ben,  earnestly. 

"  It  is  for  that  reason,  perhaps,  that  I  take  an  interest  in 


50  THE    STORE    BOY 

country  boys  who  are  placed  as  my  husband  once  was,"  con- 
tinued Mrs,  Hamilton.  "  But  here  we  are  at  Broadway.  Iti 
only  remains  to  express  my  acknowledgment  of  your  timely; 
assistance." 

"  You  are  quite  welcome,"  said  Ben. 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,  but  I  am  none  the  less  indebted.  Do 
me  the  favor  to  accept  this." 

She  opened  her  portemonnaie,  and  taking  from  it  a  bank' 
note,  handed  it  to  Ben. 

In  surprise  he  looked  at  it,  and  saw  that  it  was  a  twenty- 
dollar  bill. 

"  Did  you  know  ttiis  was  a  twenty-dollar  bill?  "  he  asked, 
in  amazement. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  the  lady,  with  a  smile.  "  It  is  less 
than  ten  per  cent,  on  the  amount  I  would  have  lost  but  for 
you.    I  hope  it  will  be  of  service  to  you." 

"  I  feel  rich  with  it,"  answered  Ben.  "  How  can  I  thank 
you,  Mrs.  Hamilton?" 

"  Call  on  me  at  No.  —  Madison  Avenue,  and  do  it  in  per- 
son, when  you  next  come  to  the  city,"  said  the  lady,  smiling. 
"  Now,  if  you  will  kindly  call  that  stage,  I  will  bid  you  good- 
by — for  the  present." 

Ben  complied  with  her  request,  and  joyfully  resumed  his 
walk  down  Broadway. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

A   STARTLING   EVENT 

Though  Ben  had  failed  in  the  main  object  of  his  expedi- 
tion, he  returned  to  Pentonville  in  excellent  spirits.  He  felt 
that  he  had  been  a  favorite  of  fortune,  and  with  good  reason. 
In  one  day  he  had  acquired  a  sum  equal  to  five  weeks'  wages. 
Added  to  the  dollar  Mr.  Crawford  had  contributed  toward  his 
expenses,  he  had  been  paid  twenty-one  dollars,  while  he 
had  spent  a  little  less  than  two.  It  is  not  every  country  boy 
who  goes  up  to  the  great  city  who  returns  with  an  equal 
harvest.  If  Squire  Davenport  had  not  threatened  to  fore- 
close the  mortgage,  he  would  have  felt  justified  in  buying 
a  present  for  his  mother.  As  it  was,  he  feared  they  would 
have  need  of  all  the  money  that  came  in  to  meet  contingen- 
cies. 

The  train  reached  Pentonville  at  five  o'clock,  and  about 
the  usual  time  Ben  opened  the  gate  and  walked  up  to  the 
front  door  of  his  modest  home.  He  looked  so  bright  and 
cheerful  when  he  entered  her  presence  that  Mrs.  Barclay 
thought  he  must  have  found  and  been  kindly  received  by  the 
cousin  whom  he  had  gone  up  to  seek. 


THE   STORE  BOY  51 

"Did  you  see  Mr.  Peters?"  she  asked,  anxiously. 

"No,  mother;  he  is  in  Europe." 

A  shadow  came  over  the  mother's  face.  It  was  like  tak- 
ing from  her  her  last  hope. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  would  not  be  repaid  for  going  up  to  the 
city,"  she  said. 

"  I  made  a  pretty  good  day's  work  of  it,  nevertheless, 
mother.  What  do  you  say  to  this?"  and  he  opened  his  wal- 
let and  showed  her  a  roll  of  bills. 

"  Is  that  Mr.  Crawford's  money?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  mother,  it  is  mine,  or  rather  it  is  yours,  for  I  give 
it  to  you." 

"Did  you  find  a  pocketbook,  Ben?  If  so,  the  owner  may 
turn  up." 

"  Mother,  the  money  is  mine,  fairly  mine,  for  it  was  given 
me  in  return  for  a  service  I  rendered  a  lady  in  New  York." 

"  What  service  could  you  have  possibly  rendered,  Ben,  that 
merited  such  liberal  payment?  "  asked  his  mother,  in  sur- 
prise. 

Upon  this  Ben  explained,  and  Mrs.  Barclay  listened  to  his 
story  with  wonder. 

"  So  you  see,  mother,  I  did  well  to  go  to  the  city,"  said 
'Ben,  in  Conclusion. 

"  It  has  turned  out  so,  and  I  am  thankful  for  your  good 
fortune.  But  I  should  have  been  better  pleased  if  you  had 
seen  Mr.  Peters  and  found  him  willing  to  help  us  about 
the  mortgage." 

"  So  would  I,  mother,  but  this  money  is  worth  having. 
When  supper  is  over  I  will  go  to  the  store  to  help  out  Mr. 
Crawford  and  report  my  purchase  of  goods.  You  know  the 
most  of  our  trade  is  in  the  evening." 

After  Ben  had  gone  Mrs.  Barclay  felt  her  spirits  return 
as  she  thought  of  the  large  addition  to  their  little  stock 
of  money. 

"  One  piece  of  good  fortune  may  be  followed  by  another," 
she  thought.  "  Mr.  Peters  may  return  from  Europe  in  time 
to  help  us.  At  any  rate,  we  have  nearly  three  months  to 
look  about  us,  and  God  may  send  us  help." 

When  the  tea  dishes  were  washed  and  put  away  Mrs. 
Barclay  sat  down  to  mend  a  pair  of  Ben's  socks,  for  in  thai 
household  it  was  necessary  to  make  clothing  last  as  long  as 
possible,  when  she  was  aroused  from  her  work  by  a  ring- 
ing at  the  bell. 

She  opened  the  door  to  admit  Squire  Davenport. 

"  Good-evening,"  she  said,  rather  coldly,  for  she  could  not 
feel  friendly  to  a  man  who  was  conspiring  to  deprive  her 
of  her  modest  home  arfd  turn  her  out  upon  the  sidewalk. 

"  Good-evening,  widow,"  said  the  squire. 

"  Will  you  walk  in? "  asked  Mrs.  Barclay,  not  over  cor- 
dially. 
[     "Thank  you,  I  will  step  in  for  five  minutes.    I  called  to 


52  THE   STORE   BOY 

see  if  you  had  thought  better  of  my  proposal  the  other 

evening." 

"  Your  proposal  was  to  take  my  house  from  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Barclay.  "  How  can  you  suppose  I  would  think  better  of 
that? " 

"  You  forget  that  the  house  is  more  mine  than  yours 
already,  Mrs.  Barclay.  The  sum  I  have  advanced  on  mort- 
gage is  two-thirds  of  the  value  of  the  property." 

"  I  dispute  that,  sir." 

"  Let  it  pass,"  said  the  squire,  with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 
"  Call  it  three-fifths,  if  you  will.  Even  then  the  property 
is  more  mine  than  yours.  Women  don't  understand  busi- 
ness, or  you  would  see  matters  in  a  different  light." 

"  I  am  a  woman,  it  is  true,  but  I  understand  very  well  that 
you  wish  to  take  advantage  of  me,"  said  the  widow,  not 
without  excusable  bitterness  of  tone. 

"  My  good  lady,  you  forget  that  I  am  ready  to  cancel  the 
mortgage  and  pay  you  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for 
the  house.  Now,  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  is  a  hand- 
some sum — a  very  handsome  sum.  You  could  put  it  in  the 
savings  bank  and  it  would  yield  you  quite  a  comfortable  in- 
come." 

"  Twenty  dollars,  more  or  less,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay.     "  Is . 
that  what  you  call  a  comfortable  income?    How  long  do  you 
think  it  would  keep  us  alive?  " 

"  Added,  of  course,  to  your  son's  wages.  Ben  is  now  able 
to  earn  good  wages." 

"  He  earns  four  dollars  a  week,  and  that  is  our  main  de- 
pendence." 

"  I  congratulate  you.  I  didn't  suppose  Mr.  Crawford  paid 
such  high  wages." 

"  Ben  earns  every  cent  of  it." 

"  Very  possibly.  By  the  way,  what  is  this  that  Tom  was 
telling  me  about  Ben  being  sent  to  New  York  to  buy  goods 
for  the  store?  " 

"  It  is  true,  if  that  is  what  you  mean." 

"Bless  my  soul!  It  is  very  strange  of  Crawford,  and,  I 
may  add,  not  very  judicious." 

"  I  suppose  Mr.  Crawford  is  the  best  judge  of  that,  sir." 

"  Even  if  the  boy  were  competent,  which  is  not  for  a  mo- 
ment to  be  thought  of,  it  is  calculated  to  foster  his  self- 
conceit." 

"Ben  is  not  self-conceited,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay,  ready  to 
resent  any  slur  upon  her  boy.  "  He  has  excellent  business 
capacity,  and  if  he  were  older  I  should  not  need  to  ask  favors 
of  any  one." 

"  You  are  a  mother,  and  naturally  set  an  exaggerated  es- 
timate upon  your  son's  ability,  which,  I  presume,  is  respec- 
,  table,  but  probably  not  more.    However,  let  that  pass.    I  did 
i  not  call  to  discuss  Ben,  but  to  inquire  whether  you  had  not 
i  thought  better  of  the  matter  we  discussed  the  other  evening." 


THE   STORE   BOY  53 

■i 

"  I  never  shall,  Squire  Davenport.  When  the  time  comes 
you  can  foreclose,  if  you  like,  but  it  will  never  be  done  with 
my  consent." 

"  Ahem !    Your  consent  will  not  be  required." 

"And  let  me  tell  you,  Squire  Davenport,  if  you  do  this 
wicked  thing,  it  won't  benefit  you  in  the  end." 

Squire  Davenport  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  to  And  you  so  unreasonable, 
Mrs.  Barclay,"  he  said.  "  It's  the  way  with  women.  I  should 
be  glad  if  you  would  come  to  look  upon  the  matter  in  a  dif- 
ferent light;  but  I  cannot  sacrifice  my  own  interests  in  any 
event.    The  law  is  on  my  side." 

"  The  law  may  be  on  your  side,  but  the  law  upholds  a 
great  deal  that  is  oppressive  and  cruel." 

"  A  curious  set  of  laws  we  should  have  if  women  made 
them,"  said  the  squire. 

"  They  would  not  bear  so  heavily  upon  the  poor  as  they 
do  now." 

"  Well,  I  won't  stop  to  discuss  the  matter.  If  you  come 
to  entertain  different  views  about  the  house,  send  me  word 
by  Ben,  and  we  will  arrange  the  details  without  delay.  Mr. 
Kirk  is  anxious  to  move  his  family  as  soon  as  possible,  aim 
would  like  to  secure  the  house  at  once." 

"  He  will  have  to  wait  three  months  at  least,"  said  Mrs. 
Barclay,  coldly.  "  For  that  time,  I  believe,  the  law  pro- 
tects me." 

"You  are  right  there;  but  at  the  end  of  that  time  you 
cannot  expect  as  liberal  terms  as  we  are  now  prepared  to 
offer  you." 

"Liberal!"  repeated  the  widow,  in  a  meaning  tone. 

"  So  I  regard  it,"  said  the  squire,  stiffly.    "  Good-evening." 

An  hour  later  Mrs.  Barclay's  reflections  were  broken  in 
upon  by  the  ominous  clang  of  the  engine  bell.  This  is  a 
sound  which  always  excites  alarm  in  a  country  village. 

"  Where's  the  fire?  "  she  asked,  anxiously,  of  a  boy  who 
was  running  by  the  house. 

"  It's  Crawford's  store !  "  was  the  startling  reply.  "  It's 
blazin'  up  like  anything.    Guess  it'll  have  to  go." 

"  I  hope  Ben'll  keep  out  of  danger,"  thought  Mrs.  Bar- 
clay, as  she  hurriedly  took  her  shawl  and  bonnet  and  started 
for  the  scene  of  excitement. 


CHAPTER   XrV 

BEN   SHOWS   HIMSELF  A  HERO 

A  FIRE  in  a  country  village,  particularly  where  the  build- 
ing is  a  prominent  one,  is  sure  to  attract  a  large  part  of 
the  resident  population.    Men,  women  and  children,  as  weU 


54  THE    STORE    BOY 

as  the  hook  and  ladder  company,  hurried  to  the  scene  of 
conflagration.  Everybody  felt  a  personal  interest  in  Craw- 
ford s.  It  was  the  great  emporium  which  provided  all  the 
families  in  the  village  with  articles  of  prime  and  secondary 
necessity.  If  Paris  can  be  called  France,  then  Crawford's 
might  be  called  Pentpnville. 

"Crawford's  on  fire!"  exclaimed  old  Capt.  Manson.  "Bless 
my  soul!     It  cannot  be  true.     Where's  my  cane?" 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you're  goin'  to  the  fire,  father?" 
asked  his  widowed  daughter,  in  surprise,  for  the  captain  had 
bowed  beneath  the  weight  of  eighty-six  winters,  and  rarely 
left  the  domestic  hearth. 

"  Do  you  think  I'd  stay  at  home  when  Crawford's 
was  a-burnin'  ?  "  r-eturned  the  captain. 

"  But  remen.;/jer,  father,  you  ain't  so  young  as  you  used  to 
be.     You  might  catch  your  death  of  cold." 

"Vv'hat!  at  a  fire?"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  laughing  at 
his  own  joke. 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.  It's  dreadfully  imprudent. 
V/hy,  I  wouldn't  go  myself." 

"  ^^houldn't  think  you  would,   at  your  time  of  life!"  re-. 
torted  her  father,  chuckling. 

£o  tl:e  old  man  em.erged  into  the  street,  raid  hurried  as 
fast  as  his  unsteady  limbs  would  allow,  to  the  fire. 

"How  did  it  catch?"  the  reader  will  naturally  ask. 

The  young  man,  who  was  the  only  other  salesman  besides 
Ben  and  the  proprietor,  had  gone  down  cellar  smoking  a 
cigar.  In  one  corner  was  a  heap  of  shavings  and  loose  pa- 
pers. A  spr.rk  from  his  cigar  must  have  fallen  there.  Had 
he  noticed  it,  with  prompt  measures  the  incipient  fire  might 
have  been  extinguished.  But  he  went  upstairs  with  the 
kerosene,  Y',i:;ioh  he  had  drawn  for  old  Mrs.  Watts,  leaving 
behind  him  liie  seeds  of  destruction.  Soon  the  flames,  aris- 
ing, caught  the  vrooden  flooring  of  the  upper  store.  The 
smell  of  the  smoke  notifled  Crawford  and  his  clerks  of  the 
impending  disaster.  When  the  door  communicating  with  the 
basement  was  opened,  a  stifling  smoke  issued  forth  and  the 
crackling  of  the  fire  was  heard. 

"Run,  Ben;  give  the  alarm!"  called  Mr.  Crawford,  pale 
with  dismay  and  apprehension.  It  was  no  time  then  to  inquire 
how  the  fire  caught.  There  was  only  time  to  save  as  much 
of  the  stock  as  possible,  since  it  was  clear  that  the  fire 
had  gained  too  great  a  headway  to  be  put  out. 

Ben  lost  no  time,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  the  engine, 
which,  fortunately,  was  housed  only  ten  rods  away,  was  on 
the  ground.  Though  it  was  impossible  to  save  the  store,  the 
fire  might  be  prevented  from  spreading.  A  band  of  earnest 
workers  aided  Crawford  in  saving  his  stock.  A  large  part, 
of  course,  must  be  sacrificed;  but,  perhaps,  a  quarter  was 
saveo.     " 

All  at  once  a  terrified  whisper  spread  from  one  to  another: 


THE    STORE   BOY  55 

"Mrs.  Morton's  children!  Where  are  they?  They  must  be 
in  the  third  story." 

A  poor  woman,  Mrs.  Morton,  had  been  allowed,  with  her 
two  children,  to  enjoy,  temporarily,  two  rooms  in  the  third 
story.  She  had  gone  to  a  farmer's  two  miles  away  to  do 
some  work,  and  her  children,  seven  and  nine  years  of  age, 
had  remained  at  home.  They  seemed  doomed  to  certain 
death. 

But,  even  as  the  inquiry  went  from  lip  to  lip,  the  children 
appeared.  They  had  clambered  out  of  a  third-story  window 
upon  the  sloping  roof  of  the  rear  ell,  and,  pale  and  dismayed, 
stood  in  sight  of  the  shocked  and  terrified  crowd,  shrieking 
for  help! 

"A  ladder!    A  ladder!"  exclaimed  half  a  dozen. 

But  there  was  no  ladder  at  hand — none  nearer  than  Mr. 
Parmenter's,  five  minutes'  walk  away.  While  a  messenger 
was  getting  it  the  fate  of  the  children  would  be  decided. 

"Tell  'em  to  jump!"  exclaimed  Silas  Carver. 

"They'd  break  their  necks,  you  fool!"  returned  his  wife. 

"Better  do  that  than  be  burned  up! "  said  the  old  man. 

No  one  knew  what  to  do — no  one  but  Ben  Barclay. 

He  seized  a  coil  of  rope,  and  with  a  speed  which  surprised 
even  himself,  climbed  up  a  tall  oak  tree,  whose  branches 
overshadowed  the  roof  of  the  ell  part.  In  less  than  a  min- 
ute he  found  himself  on  a  limb  just  over  the  children.  To 
the  end  of  the  rope  was  fastened  a  strong  iron  hook. 

Undismayed  by  his  own  danger,  Ben  threw  his  rope, 
though  he  nearly  lost  his  footing  while  he  was  doing  it,  and 
with  an  aim  so  precise  that  the  hook  caught  in  the  smaller 
girl's   dress. 

"  Hold  on  to  the  rope,  Jennie,  if  you  can!  "  he  shouted. 

The  girl  obeyed  him  instinctively. 

Drawing  the  cord  hand  over  hand,  the  little  girl  swung 
clear,  and  was  lowered  into  the  arms  of  Ebenezer  Strong, 
who  detachc-d  the  hook  from  the  little  girl's  dress. 

"  Save  the  other,  Ben!  "  shouted  a  dozen. 

Ben  needed  no  spur  to  further  effort. 

Again  he  threw  the  hook,  and  this  time  the  older  girl, 
comprehending  what  was  required,  caught  the  rope  and 
swung  off  the  roof  scarcely  in  time,  for  her  clothing  had 
caught  fire.  But,  when  she  reached  the  ground,  ready  hands 
extinguished  it  and  the  crowd  of  anxious  spectators  breathed 
more  freely,  as  Ben,  throwing  down  the  rope,  rapidly  de- 
scended the  tree  and  stood  once  more  in  safety,  having  saved 
two  lives. 

Just  then  it  was  that  the  poor  mother,  almost  frantic 
with  fear,  arrived  on  the  ground. 

"Where  arc  iny  darlings?    Who  will  save  them?"  she  ex- 
claimed,  full   of  anguish,  yet  not  comprehending  that  thej? 
were  out  of  peril. 
4tt 


66  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  They  are  safe,  and  here  is  the  brave  boy  who  saved 
their  lives,"  said  Ebenezer  Strong. 

"  God  bless  you,  Ben  Barclay!  "  exclaimed  the  poor  mother. 
"  You  have  saved  my  life  as  well  as  theirs,  for  I  should  have 
died  if  they  had  burned." 

Ben  scarcely  heard  her,  for  one  and  another  came  up  to 
shake  his  hand  and  congratulate  him  upon  his  brave  deed. 
Our  young  hero  was  generally  self-possessed,  but  he  hardly 
knew  how  to  act  when  he  found  himself  an  object  of  popu- 
lar ovation. 

"  Somebody  else  would  have  done  it  if  I  hadn't,"  he  said, 
modestly. 

"  You  are  the  only  one  who  had  his  wits  about  him,"  said 
Seth  Jones.  "  No  one  thought  of  the  rope  till  you  climbed 
the  tree.  We  were  all  looking  for  a  ladder  and  there  was 
none  to  be  had  nearer  than  Mr.  Parmenter's." 

"  I  wouldn't  have  thought  of  it  myself  if  I  hadn't  read 
in  a  daily  paper  of  something  like  it,"  said  Ben. 

"  Ben,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford,  "  I'd  give  a  thousand  dollars  to 
have  done  what  you  did.    You've  shown  yourself  a  hero." 

"  Oh,  Ben,  how  frightened  I  was  when  I  saw  you  on  the 
branch  just  over  the  burning  building,"  said  a  well-known 
voice. 

Turning,  Ben  saw  that  it  was  his  mother  who  spoke. 

"  Well,  it's  all  right  now,  mother,"  he  said,  smiling.  "  You 
are  not  sorry  I  did  it." 

"  Sorry!    I  am  proud  of  you." 

"  I  am  not  proud  of  my  hands,"  said  Ben.    "  Look  at  them." 

They  were  chafed  and  bleeding,  having  been  lacerated  by 
his  rapid  descent  from  the  tree. 

"  Come  home,  Ben,  and  let  me  put  some  salve  on  them. 
How  they  must  pain  you!" 

"  Wait  till  the  fire  is  all  over,  mother." 

The  gallant  firemen  did  all  they  could,  but  the  store  was 
doomed.  They  could  only  prevent  it  from  extending.  In 
half  an  hour  the  engine  was  taken  back,  and  Ben  went  home 
with  his  mother. 

"  It's  been  rather  an  exciting  evening,  mother,"  said  Ben. 
"  I  rather  think  I  shall  have  to  find  a  new  place." 


CHAPTER   XV 

•^^-^^  BEN   LOSES   HIS   PLACE 

Ben  did  riot  find  himself  immediately  out  of  employment. 
The  next  morning  Mr.  Crawford  commenced  the  work  of  as- 
certaining what  articles  he  had  saved,  and  storing  them.  Luck- 


THE    STORE   BOY  57 

ily,  there  was  a  vacant  store  which  had  once  been  used  for  a 
tailor's  shop,  but  had  been  unoccupied  for  a  year  or  more.  This 
he  hired,  and  at  once  removed  his  goods  to  it.  But  he  did 
not  display  his  usual  energy.  He  was  a  man  of  over  sixty, 
and  no  longer  possessed  the  enterprise  and  ambition  which 
had  once  characterized  him.  Besides,  he  was  very  comfort- 
ably off,  or  would  be  when  he  obtained  the  insurance  money. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do,"  he  said,  when  questioned. 
"  I  was  brought  up  on  a  farm,  and  I  always  meant  to  end 
my  days  on  one.  Perhaps  now  is  as  well  as  any  time,  since 
my  business  is  broken  up." 

This- came  to  the  ears  of  Squire  Davenport,  who  was  al- 
ways keen-scented  for  a  bargain.  His  wife's  cousin,  Mr. 
Kirk,  who  has  already  been  introduced  to  the  reader,  had,  in 
his  earlier  days,  served  as  a  clerk  in  a  country  store.  He 
had  no  capital,  to  be  sure,  but  the  squire  had  plenty.  Ifc 
occurred  to  him  as  a  good  plan  to  buy  out  the  business  him- 
self, hire  Kirk  on  a  salary  to  conduct  it,  and  so  add  consid- 
erably to  his  already  handsome  income.  He  sent  for  Kirk, 
ascertained  that  he  was  not  only  willing,  l>ut  anxious,  to 
manage  the  business,  and  then  called  on  Mr.  Llrawford. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  detail  the  negotiations  that  ensued. 
It  was  Squire  Davenport's  wish  to  obtain  the  business  as 
cheaply  as  possible.  The  storekeeper,  however,  had  his  own 
estimate  of  its  worth,  and  the  squire  was  obliged  to  add  con- 
siderable of  his  first  offer.  In  the  end,  however,  he  secured 
it  on  advantageous  terms,  and  Mr.  Crawford  now  felt  able 
to  carry  out  the  plan  he  had  long  had  in  view. 

It  was  in  the  evening,  a  week  after  the  fire,  that  the  bar- 
gain was  struck,  and  Ben  was  one  of  the  first  to  hear  of  it. 

When  he  came  to  work  early  the  next  morning  he  found 
his  employer  in  the  store  before  him,  which  was  not  usual. 

"  You  are  early,  Mr.  Crawford,"  he  said,  in  evident  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,  Ben,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  can  afford  to  come  early 
for  a  morning  or  two,  as  I  shall  soon  be  out  of  business." 

"You  haven't  sold  out,  have  you?"  inquired  Ben,  quickly. 

"Yes;  the  bargain  was  struck  last  evening." 

"How  soon  do  you  leave  the  store?" 

"In  three  days.  It  will  take  that  time  to  make  up  my  ac- 
counts." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Ben,  "  for  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  re- 
tire,  too." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  Ben,  Very  likely  my  successor 
may  want  you." 

"  That  depends  on  who  he  is.  Do  you  mind  telling  me, 
or  is  it  a  secret?  " 

"  Oh,  no;  it  will  have  to  come  out,  of  course.  Squire  Dav- 
enport has  bought  the  business." 

"  The  squire  isn't  going  to  keep  the  store,  is  he?  "  asked 
Ben,  in  amazement. 


58  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  No;  though  he  will,  no  doubt,  supervise  it.  He  will  em- 
ploy a  manager." 

"Do  you  know  who  is  to  be  the  manager,  Mr.  Crawford?" 

"  Some  connection  of  his  named  Kirk." 

Ben  whistled. 

"Do  you  know  him?"  the  storekeeper  was  led  to  inquire. 

"  I  have  not  seen  him,  but  he  called  with  the  squire  on  my 
mother,"  said  Ben,  significantly. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  recommend  you  to  him." 

"  It  will  be  of  no  use,  Mr.  Crawford,"  answered  Ben,  in  a 
decided  tone.  "  I  know  he  wouldn't  employ  me,  nor  would.  I 
work  for  him  if  he  would.  Neither  he  nor  the  squire  is 
a  friend  of  mine." 

"  I  did  not  dream  of  this,  Ben.  I  am  sorry  if  the  step  I 
have  taken  is  going  to  deprive  you  of  employment,"  said 
Mr.  Crawford,  who  was  a  kind-hearted  man,  and  felt  a  sin- 
cere interest  in  his  young  clerk. 

"  Never  mind,  Mr.  Crawford,  I  am  not  cast  down.  There 
will  be  other  openings  for  me.  I  am  young,  strong,  and  will- 
ing to  work,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  find  something  to  do." 

"  That's  right,  Ben.  Cheer  up,  and  if  I  hear  of  any  good 
chance,  rest  assured  that  I  will  let  you  know  of  it." 

Tom  Davenport  was  not  long  in  hearing  of  his  father's 
bargain.  He  heard  it  with  unfeigned  pleasure,  for  it  oc- 
curred to  him  at  once  that  Ben,  for  whom  he  had  a  feeling 
of  hatred,  by  no  means  creditable  to  him,  would  be  thrown 
out  of  employment. 

"  Promise  me,  pa,  that  you  won't  employ  Ben  Barclay,"  he 
said. 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  employing  that  boy,"  said  his 
father.  "  Mr.  Kirk  has  a  son  of  his  own,  about  Ben's  age, 
and  will,  no  doubt,  put  him  into  the  store,  unless  you  should 
choose  to  go  in  and  learn  the  business." 

"What I  I  become  a  store  boy!"  exclaimed  Tom,  in  dis- 
gust. "  No,  thank  you.  I  might  be  willing  to  become  sales- 
man in  a  large  establishment  in  the  city,  but  I  don't  care  to 
go  into  a  country  grocery." 

"  It  wouldn't  do  you  any  harm,"  said  the  squire,  who  was 
not  quite  so  high-minded  as  his  son.  "  However,  I  merely 
mentioned  it  as  something  you  could  do,  if  you  chose." 

"Bah!     I  don't  choose  it,"  said  Tom,  decidedly. 

"Well,  well;  you  won't  have  to  do  it." 

"  It  would  put  me  on  a  level  with  Ben  Barclay,  if  I  stepped 
5nto  his  shoes.  Won't  he  be.  down  in  the  mouth  when  he 
hears  he  ha^  last  his  place? "  and  Tom  chuckled  at  the 
thought.  '  ' 

"  That  is  no  concern  of  mine,"  said  the  squire.  "  I  suppose 
he  can  hire  out  to  a  farmer." 

"  Just  the  business  for  him,"  said  Tom,  "  unless  he  should 
prefer  to  go  to  New  York  and  set  up  as  a  bootblack.  I  be- 
lieve I'll  suggest  that  to  him!" 


THE    STORE   BOY  59 

"  Probably  he  won't  thank  you  for  the  suggestion." 

"  I  guess  not.  He's  as  proud  as  he  is  poor.  It's  amusing 
to  see  what  airs  he  puts  on." 

Squire  Davenport,  however,  was  not  so  much  interested  in 
that  phase  of  the  subject  as  Tom,  and  did  not  reply. 

"  I  think  I'll  go  down  street,"  thought  Tom.  "  Perhaps  I 
may  come  across  Ben.    I  shall  enjoy  seeing  how  he  takes  it." 

Tom  had  scarcely  walked  a  hundred  yards  when  he  met, 
not  the  one  of  whom  he  had  thought,  but  another  to  whom 
he  felt  glad  to  speak  on  the  same  subject.  This  was  Rose 
Gardiner,  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  village,  who  has  already 
deeply  offended  Tom  by  accepting  Ben  as  her  escort  from 
the  magical  entertainment  in  place  of  him.  He  had  made 
advances  since,  being  desirous  of  ousting  Ben  from  his  po- 
sition of  favorite,  but  the  young  lady  had  treated  him  coldly, 
much  to  his  anger  and  mortification. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Rose,"  said  Tom,  removing  his  hat. 

"Good-morning,"  answered  Rose,  civilly. 

"Have  you  heard  the  news?" 

"To  what  news  do  you  refer?" 

"  Crawford  has  sold  out  his  business." 

"Indeed!"  said  Rose,  in  surprise;  "who  has  bought  it?" 

"My  father.  Of  course,  he  won't  keep  store  himself.  He 
will  put  in  a  connection  of  ours,  Mr.  Kirk." 

"This  is  news,  indeed!     Where  is  Mr.  Crawford  going?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  I  thought  you'd  be  more  apt 
to  inquire  about  somebody  else?  " 

"  I  am  not  good  at  guessing  enigmas,"  said  Rose. 

"  Your  friend,  Ben  Barclay,"  returned  Tom,  with  a  sneer. 
"Father  won't  have  him  in  the  store!" 

"Oh,  I  see;  you  are  going  to  take  his  place,"  said  Rose, 
mischievously. 

"I?  What  do  you  take  me  for?"  said  Tom,  haughtily. 
"  I  suppose  Ben  Barclay  will  have  to  go  to  work  on  a  farm." 

"  That  is  a  very  honorable  employment,"  said  Rose,  calmly. 

"  Yes;  he  can  be  a  hired  man  when  he  grows  up.  Perhaps, 
though,  he  will  prefer  to  go  to  the  city,  and  become  a  boot- 
black." 

"Ben  ought  to  be  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  in- 
terest you  feel  in  his  welfare,"  said  Rose,  looking  steadily 
and  scornfully  at  Tom.     "  Good-morning." 

"  She  feels  sore  about  it,"  thought  Tom,  complacently. 

"  She  won't  be  quite  so  ready  to  accept  Ben's  attentions 
when  he  is  a  farm  laborer." 

Tom,  however,  didn't  understand  Rose  Gardiner.  She  was 
a  girl  of  good  sense,  and  her  estimate  of  others  was  founded 
Oil  something  else  than  social  position. 


60  THE  STORE  BOY 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BEN   FINDS   TEMPORARY   EMPLOYMENT 

"  Oh,  Ben,  what  shall  we  do  ? "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Barclay, 
when  she  heard  Mr,  Crawford  had  sold  out   his  business. 

"  We'll  get  along  somehow,  mother.  Something  will  be 
sure  to  turn  up." 

Ben  spoke  more  cheerfully  than  he  felt.  He  knew  very 
well  that  Pentonville  presented  scarcely  any  field  for  a  boy, 
unless  he  was  willing  to  work  on  a  farm.  Now,  Ben  had  no 
objections  to  farm  labor,  provided  he  had  a  farm  of  his  O'iati, 
but  at  the  rate  such  labor  was  paid  in  Pentonville,  there 
was  very  little  chance  of  ever  rising  above  the  position  of 
a  "  hired  man,"  if  he  once  adopted  the  business.  Our  young 
hero  felt  that  this  would  not  satisfy  him.  He  was  enterpris- 
ing and  ambitious,  and  wanted  to  be  a  rich  man  some  day. 

Money  is  said,  by  certain  moralists,  to  be  the  root  of  all 
evil.  The  love  of  money,  if  carried  too  far,  may  indeed  lead 
to  evil,  but  it  is  a  natural  ambition  in  any  boy  or  man  to 
wish  to  raise  himself  above  poverty.  The  wealth  of  Amos 
Lawrence  and  Peter  Cooper  was  a  source  of  blessing  to  man- 
kind, yet  each  started  as  a  poor  boy,  and  neither  would  have 
become  rich  if  he  had  not  striven  hard  to  become  so. 

When  Ben  made  this  cheerful  answer  his  mother  shook 
her  head  sadly.  She  was  not  so  hopeful  as  Ben,  and  vi- 
sions of  poverty  presented  themselves  before  her  mind. 

"I  don't  see  what  you  can  And  to  do  in  Pentonville,  Ben," 
she  said. 

"  I  can  live  a  while  without  work  while  I  am  looking 
around,  mother,"  Ben  answered.  "  We  have  got  all  that 
money  I  brought  from  New  York  yet." 

"  It  won't  last  long,"  said  his  mother,  despondently. 

"  It  will  last  till  I  can  earn  some  more,"  answered  Ben. 

Ben  was  about  to  leave  the  house  when  a  man  in  a  far- 
mer's frock,  driving  a  yoke  of  oxen,  stopped  his  team  in  the 
road,  and  turned  in  at  the  widow's  gate. 

It  was  Silas  Greyson,  the  owner  of  a  farm  just  out  of  the 
A^illage. 

"  Did  you  want  to  see  mother?  "  asked  Ben. 

"  No,  I  wanted  to  see  you,  Benjamin,"  answered  Gfeyson. 
"  I  hear  you've  left  the  store." 

"  The  store  has  changed  hands,  and  the  new  storekeeper 
don't  want  me." 

"  Do  you  want  a  job?  " 

"What  is  it,  Mr.  Greyson?"  Ben  replied,  answering  one 
question  with  another. 

"  I  am  goin'  to  get  in  wood  for  the  winter  from  my  wood 
lot  for  about  a  week,"  said  the  farmer,  "  and  I  want  help. 
Are  you  willin'  to  hire  out  for  a  week?  " 


THE    STORE   BOY  61 

"What'll  you  pay  me?"  asked  Ben. 

"  I'll  keep  you,  and  give  you  a  cord  of  wood.  Your 
mother'll  find  it  handy.  I'm  short  of  money,  and  calc'late 
wood'U  be  just  as  good  pay." 

Ben  thought  over  the  proposal,  and  answered :  "  I'd  rather 
take  my  meals  at  home,  Mr.  Greyson,  and  if  you'll  make  it 
two  cords  with  that  understanding,  I'll  agree  to  hire  out  to 
you." 

"Ain't  that  rather  high?"  asked  the  farmer,  hesitating. 

"  I  don't  think  so." 

Finally  Silas  Greyson  agreed,  and  Ben  promised  to  be  on 
hand  bright  and  early  the  next  day.  It  may  be  stated  here 
that  wood  was  very  cheap  at  Pentonville,  so  that  Ben  would 
not  be  overpaid. 

There  were  some  few  things  about  the  house  which  Ben 
wished  to  do  for  his  mother  before  he  went  to  work  any- 
where, and  he  thought  this  a  good  opportunity  to  do  them. 
While  in  the  store  his  time  had  been  so  taken  up  that  he  was 
unable  to  attend  to  them.  He  passed  a  busy  day,  therefore, 
and  hardly  went  into  the  street. 

Just  at  nightfall,  as  he  was  in  the  front  yard,  he  was 
rather  surprised  to  see  Tom  Davenport  open  the  gate  and 
enter. 

"  What  does  he  want,  I  wonder?  "  he  thought,  but  he  said, 
in  a  civil  tone :  "  Good-evening,  Tom." 

"You're  out  of  business,  ain't  you?"  asked  Tom,  abruptly. 

"I'm  not  out  of  work,  at  any  rate!"  answered  Ben. 

"Why,  what  work  are  you  doing?"  interrogated  Tom,  in 
evident  disappointment. 

"  I've  been  doing  some  jobs  about  the  house  for  mother." 

"  That  won't  give  you  a  living,"  said  Tom,  disdainfully. 

"  Very  true." 

"Did  you  expect  to  stay  in  the  store?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Not  after  I  heard  that  jqiit  father  had  bought  it,"  an- 
swered Ben,  quietly. 

"  My  father's  willing  to  give  you  work,"  said  Tom. 

"Is  he?"  asked  Ben,  very  much  surprised. 

It  occurred  to  him  that  perhaps  he  would  have  a  chance 
to  remain  in  the  store  after  all,  and  for  the  present  that 
would  have  suited  him.  Though  he  didn't  like  the  squire, 
or  Mr.  Kirk,  he  felt  that  he  had  no  right,  in  his  present  cir- 
cumstances, to  refuse  any  way  to  earn  an  honest  living. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Tom.    "  I  told  him  he'd  better  hire  you." 

"You  did!"  exclaimed  Ben,  more  and  more  amazed.  "I 
didn't  expect  that.    However,  go  on,  if  you  please." 

"  He's  got  three  cords  of  wood  that  he  wants  sawed  and 
split,"  said  Tom,  "  and  as  I  knew  how  poor  you  were  I 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  chance  for  you." 

You  might  have  thought  from  Tom's  manner  that  he  was 
a  young  lord,  and  Ben  a  peasant.  Ben  was  not  angry,  but 
amused. 


62  THE   STORE   BOY 

"It  is  true,"  he  said.  "I  am  not  rich;  still,  I  am  not  as 
poor  as  you  think," 

He  happened  to  have  in  his  pocketbook  the  money  he  had 
brought  from  New  York,  and  this  he  took  from  his  pocket, 
and  displayed  to  the  astonished  Tom. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  money?"  asked  Tom,  surprised 
and  chagrined. 

"  I  got  it  honestly.  You  see  we  can  hold  out  a  few  days. 
However,  I  may  be  willing  to  accept  the  job  you  offer  me. 
How  much  is  your  father  willing  to  pay  me?  " 

"  He  is  willing  to  give  you  forty  cents  a  day," 

"  How  long  does  he  expect  me  to  work  for  that? " 

"  Ten  hours." 

"  That  is  four  cents  an  hour,  and  hard  work  at  that,  I  am 
much  obliged  to  you  and  him,  Tom,  for  your  liberal  offer, 
but  I  can't  accept  it," 

"  You'll  see  the  time  when  you'll  be  glad  to  take  such  a 
job,"  said  Tom,  who  was  personally  disappointed  that  he 
would  not  be  able  to  exhibit  Ben  as  his  father's  hired  de- 
pendent. 

"  You  seem  to  know  all  about  it,  Tom,"  answered  Ben. 
"  I  shall  be  at  work  all  next  week,  at  much  higher  pay,  for 
Silas  Greyson," 

"  How  much  does  he  pay  you?" 

"  Tliat  is  my  private  business,  and  wouldn't  interest  you." 

"  You're  mighty  independent  for  a  boy  in  your  position." 

"Very  likely.    Won't  you  come  in?" 

"  No,"  answered  Tom,  ungraciously;  "  I've  wasted  too  much 
time  here  already." 

"I  understand  Tom's  object  in  wanting  to  hire  me," 
thought  Ben,  "  He  wants  to  order  me  around.  Still,  if  the 
squire  had  been  willing  to  pay  a  decent  price,  I  would  have 
accepted  the  job.  I  won't  let  pride  stand  in  the  way  of  my 
supporting  mother  and  myself." 

This  was  a  sensible  and  praiseworthy  resolution,  as  I 
hope  my  young  readers  will  admit.  I  don't  think  much  of 
the  pride  that  is  willing  to  let  others  suffer  in  order  that  it 
may  be  gratified. 

Ben  worked  a  full  week  for  Farmer  Greyson,  and  helped 
unload  the  two  cords  of  wood,  which  were  his  wages,  in  his 
mother's  yard.  Then  there  were  two  days  of  idleness,  which 
made  him  anxious.  On  the  second  day,  just  after  supper,  he 
met  Rose  Gardiner  coming  from  the  post  office. 

"Have  you  any  correspondents  in  New  York,  Ben?"  she 
asked. 

"  What  makes  you  ask,  Rose? " 

"Because  the  postmaster  told  me  there  was  a  letter  for 
you  by  this  evening's  mail.  It  was  mailed  in  New  York, 
and  was  directed  in  a  lady's  hand.  I  hope  you  haven't  been 
flirting  with  any  New  York  ladies,  Mr.  Barclay." 


THE    STORE   BOY  63 

"  The  only  lady  I  know  in  New  York  is  at  least  fifty  years 
old,"  answered  Ben,  smiling. 

"  That  is  satisfactory,"  answered  Rose,  solemnly.  "  Then 
I  won't  be  jealous." 

"  What  can  the  letter  be?  "  thought  Ben.  "  I  hope  it  con- 
tains good  news." 

He  hurried  to  the  post  office  in  a  fever  of  excitement. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WHAT  THE  LETTER  CONTAINED 

"  I  HEAR  there  is  a  letter  for  me,  Mr.  Brown,"  said  Ben 
to  the  postmaster,  who  was  folding  the  evening  papers,  of 
which  he  received  a  parcel  from  the  city  by  the  afternoon 
train. 

"  Yes,  Ben,"  answered  the  postmaster,  smiling.  "  It  ap- 
pears to  be  from  a  lady  in  New  York.  You  must  have  im- 
proved your  time  during  your  recent  visit  to  the  city?" 

"  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  one  lady  older  than  my 
mother,"  answered  Ben.    "  I  didn't  flirt  with  her  any." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  should  judge  that  she  became  interested  in 
you  or  she  wouldn't  write." 

"  I  hope  she  did,  for  she  is  very  wealthy,"  returned  Ben. 

The  letter  was  placed  in  his  hands,  and  he  quickly  tore  it 
open. 

Something  dropped  from  it. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  the't)Ostmaster. 

Ben  stooped  and  picked  it  up,  and,  to  his  surprise,  discov- 
ered that  it  was  a  ten-dollar  bill. 

"  That's  a  correspondent  worth  having,"  said  Mr.  Brown, 
jocosely.     "  Can't  you  give  me  a  letter  of  introduction?  " 

Ben  didn't  answer,  for  he  was  by  this  time  deep  in  the  let- 
ter. We  will  look  over  his  shoulder  and  read  it  with  him. 
It  ran  thus; 

"  No.  — :  Madison  Avenue, 

"  New  York,  October  5. 
"  My  Dear  Young  Friend  : 

"Will  you  come  to  New  York  and  call  upon  me?  I  have 
a  very  pleasant  remembrance  of  you  and  the  service  you 
did  me  recently,  and  I  think  I  can  employ  you  in  other 
ways  to  our  mutual  advantage.  I  am  willing  to  pay  you  a 
higher  salary  than  you  are  receiving  in  your  country  home, 
besides  providing  you  with  a  home  in  my  own  house.  I  in- 
close ten  dollars  for  expenses.    Yours,  with  best  wishes, 

"  Helen  Hamilton." 


64  THE   STORE   BOY 

Ben's  heart  beat  with  joyful  excitement  as  he  read  this 
letter.  It  could  not  have  come  at  a  better  time,  for,  as  we 
know  he  was  out  of  employment,  and,  of  course,  earning 
nothing. 

"  Well,  Ben,"  said  the  postmaster,  whose  curiosity  was 
excited,  "is  it  good  news?" 

"  I  should  say  it  was,"  said  Ben,  emphatically.  "  I  am 
offered  a  good  situation  in  New  York." 

"You  don't  say  so!     How  much  are  you  offered?" 

"  I  am  to  get  more  than  Mr.  Crawford  paid  me,  and  board 
in  a  fine  house  besides — a  brownstone  house  on  Madison 
Avenue." 

"Well,  I  declare!  You  are  in  luck,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Brown. 
"What  are  you  to  do?" 

"  That's  more  than  I  know.  Here  is  the  letter,  if  you  like 
to  read  it." 

"  It  reads  well.  She  must  be  a  generous  lady.  But  what 
will  your  mother  say  to  your  leaving  her?" 

"  That's  what  I  don't  know,"  said  Ben,  looking  suddenly 
sober.    "  I  hate  to  leave  her,  but  it  is  for  my  good." 

"  Mothers  are  self-sacrificing  when  the  interests  of  their 
children  are  concerned." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Ben,  promptly;  "  and  I've  got  one  of 
the  best  mothers  going." 

"  So  you  have.  Every  one  likes  and  respects  Mrs.  Bar- ' 
clay." 

Any  boy,  who  is  worth  anything,  likes  to  hear  his  mother 
praised,  and  Ben  liked  Mr.  Brown  better  for  this  tribute  to 
the  one  whom  he  loved  best  on  earth.  He  was  not  slow  in 
making  his  way  home.  He  went  at  once  to  the  kitchen, 
where  his  mother  was  engaged  in  mixing  bread. 

"What's  the  matter,  Ben?  You  look  excited,"  said  Mrs. 
Barclay. 

"  So  I  am  mother.     I  am  offered  a  place." 

"Not  in  the  store?" 

"  No;  it  is  in  New  York." 

"  In  New  York!  "  repeated  his  mother,  in  a  troubled  voice. 
"  It  would  cost  you  all  you  could  make  to  pay  your  board  in 
some  cheap  boarding  house.  If  it  were  really  going  to  be 
for  your  good,  I  might  consent  to  part  with  you,  but " 

"  Read  that  letter,  mother,"  said  Ben.  "  You  will  see  that 
I  shall  have  an  elegant  home  and  a  salary  besides.  It  is  a 
chance  in  a  thousand." 

Mrs.  Barclay  read  the  letter  carefully. 

"Can  I  go,  mother?"  Ben  asked,  anxiously. 

"  It  will  be  a  sacrifice  for  me  to  part  with  you,  Ben,"  re- 
turned his  mother,  slowly;  "but  I  agree  with  you  that  it 
is  a  rare  chance,  and  I  should  be  doing  wrong  to  stand  in 
the  way  of  your  good  fortune.  Mrs.  Hamilton  must  have 
formed  a  very  good  opinion  of  you." 

"  She  may  be  disappointed  in  me,"  said  Ben,  modestly. 


THE    STORE   BOY  65 

"  I  don't  think  she  will,"  said  Mrs.  Barclay,  with  a  proud 
and  affectionate  glance  at  her  boy.  "  You  have  always  been 
a  good  son,  and  that  is  the  best  of  recommendations." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  too  partial,  mother.  I  shall  hate 
to  leave  you  alone." 

"  I  can  bear  loneliness  if  I  know  you  are  prospering,  Ben." 

"  And  it  will  only  be  for  a  time,  mother.  When  I  am  a 
young  man  and  earning  a  good  income,  I  shall  want  you  to 
come  and  live  with  me." 

"All  in  good  time,  Ben.    How  soon  do  you  want  to  go?" 

"  I  think  it  better  to  lose  no  time,  mother.  You  know  I 
have  no  work  to  keep  me  in  Pentonville." 

"But  it  will  take  two  or  three  days  to  get  your  clothes 
ready." 

"  You  can  send  them  to  me  by  express.  I  shall  send  you 
the  address." 

Mrs.  Barclay  was  a  fond  mother,  but  she  was  also  a  sen- 
sible woman.  She  felt  that  Ben  was  right,  and,  though  it 
seemed  very  sudden,  she  gave  him  her  permission  to  start  the 
next  morning.  Had  she  objected  strenuously,  Ben  would 
have  given  up  his  plan,  much  as  he  desired  it,  for  he  felt 
that  his  mother  had  the  strongest  claims  upon  him,  and  he 
would  not  have  been  willing  to  run  counter  to  her  wishes. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Ben?  "  asked  his  mother,  as  Ben 
put  on  his  hat  and  moved  toward  the  door. 

"  I  thought  I  would  like  to  call  on  Rose  Gardiner  to  say 
good-by,"   answered  Ben. 

"  Quite  right,  my  son.  Rose  is  a  good  friend  of  yours,  and 
an  excellent  girl." 

"  I  say  ditto  to  that,  mother,"  Ben  answered,  warjnly. 

I  am  not  going  to  represent  Ben  as  being  in  love — he  was 
too  young  for  that — but,  like  many  boys  of  his  age,  he  felt 
a  special  attraction  in  the  society  of  one  young  girl.  His 
good  taste  was  certainly  not  at  fault  in  his  choice  of  Rose 
Gardiner,  who,  far  from  being  frivolous  and  fashionable, 
was  a  girl  of  sterling  traits,  who  was  not  above  making 
herself  useful  in  the  household  of  which  she  formed  a  part. 

On  his  way  to  the  home  of  Rose  Gardiner,  Ben  met  Tom 
Davenport. 

"How  are  you  getting  along?"  asked  Tom,  not  out  of  in- 
terest, but  curiosity. 

"  Very  well,  thank  you." 

"  Have  you  got  through  helping  the  farmer?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  It  was  a  very  long  job.  Have  you  thought  better  of 
eoming  to  saw  wood  for  father?" 

"No;  I  have  thought  worse  of  it,"  answered  Ben,  smiling. 

"  You  are  too  proud.    Poor  and  proud  don't  agree." 

"  Not  at  all.  I  would  have  had  no  objection  to  the  work.  It 
was  the  pay  I  didn't  like." 


66  THE    STORE   BOY 

"You  can't  earn  more  than  forty  cents  a  day  at  anything 
else." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  I  am  going  to  New  York  to-morrow 
to  take  a  place,  where  I  get  board  and  considerable  more 
money  besides." 

"Is  that  true?"  asked  Tom,  looking  as  if  he  had  lost  his 
best  friend. 

"  Quite  so.  The  party  inclosed  ten  dollars  to  pay  my  ex- 
penses up  to  the  city." 

"  He  must  be  a  fool." 

"  Thank  you.    It  happens  to  be  a  lady." 

**What  are  you  to  do?" 

"  I  don't  know  yet.  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  well  paid.  I  must 
ask  you  to  excuse  me  now,  as  I  am  going  to  call  on  Rose 
Gardiner  to  bid  her  good-by." 

"  I  dare  say  she  would  excuse  you,"  said  Tom,  with  a 
sneer. 

"Perhaps  so;  but  I  wouldn't  like  to  go  without  saying 
good-by." 

"At  any  rate,  he  will  be  out  of  my  way,"  thought  Tom, 
"  and  I  can  monopolize  Rose.    I'm  glad  he's  going." 

He  bade  Ben  an  unusually  civil  good-night,  as  this  thought 
occurred  to  him. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

FAREWELL  TO  PENTONVILLE 

"  I  HAVE  come  to  say  good-by.  Rose,"  said  Ben,  as  the 
young  lady  made  her  appearance. 

"Good-by!"  repeated  Rose,  in  surprise.  "Why,  where 
are  you  going?" 

"To  New  York." 

"But  you  are  coming  back  again?" 

"I  hope  so,  but  only  for  a  visit  now  and  "then.  I  am 
offered  a  position  in  the  city." 

"Isn't  that  rather  sudden?"  said  Rose,  after  a  pause. 

Ben  explained  how  he  came  to  be  offered  employment. 

"  I  am  to  receive  higher  pay  than  I  did  here,  and  a  home 
besides,"  he  added,  in  a  tone  of  satisfaction.  "  Don't  you 
think  I  am  lucky?  " 

"Yes,  Ben,  and  I  rejoice  in  your  good  fortune;  but  I  shall 
miss  you  so  much,"  said  Rose,  frankly. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  returned  Ben.  "  I  hoped  you  would 
miss  me  a  little.  You'll  go  and  see  mother  now  and  then, 
won't  you?     She  will  feel  very  lonely." 

"  You  may  be  sure  I  will.  It  is  a  pity  you  have  to  go 
away.    A  great  many  will  be  sorry." 


THE    STORE   BOY  67 

"  I  know  some  one  who  won't." 

"  Who  is  that?  " 

"  Tom  Davenport." 

Rose  smiled.  She  had  a  little  idea  why  Tom  would  not 
regret  Ben's  absence. 

"  Tom  could  be  spared,  as  well  as  not,"  she  said. 

"  He  is  a  strong  admirer  of  yours,  I  believe,"  said  Ben, 
mischievously. 

"  I  don't  admire  him,"  retorted  Rose,  with  a  little  toss  of 
her  head. 

Ben  heard  this  with  satisfaction,  for  though  he  was  too 
young  to  be  a  lover,  he  did  have  a  strong  feeling  of  attrac- 
tion toward  Rose,  and  would  have  been  sorry  to  have  Tom 
step  into  his  place. 

As  Ben  was  preparing  to  go,  Rose  said: 

"  Wait  a  minute,  Ben." 

She  left  the  room  and  went  upstairs,  but  returned  al- 
most immediately,  with  a  small  knit  purse. 

"Won't  you  accept  this,  Ben?"  she  said.  "I  just  finished 
it  yesterday.    It  will  remind  you  of  me  when  you  are  away." 

"  Thank  you,  Rose.  I  shall  need  nothing  to  keep  you  in 
my  remembrance,  but  I  will  value  it  for  your  sake." 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  fortunate  and  fill  it  very  soon,  Ben." 

So  the  two  parted  on  the  most  friendly  terms,  and  the 
next  day  Ben  started  for  New  York  in  the  highest  of  spirits. 
;  After  purchasing  his  ticket,  he  gave  place  to  Squire  Dav- 
ipnport,  who  also  called  for  a  ticket  to  New  York.  Now,  it 
so  happened  that  the  squire  had  not  seen  Tom  since  the  in- 
terview of  the  latter  with  our  hero,  and  was  in  ignorance  of 
bis  good  luck. 

"Are  you  going  to  New  York,  Benjamin?"  he  asked,  in 
surprise. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Isn't  it  rather  extravagant  for  one  in  your  circum- 
stances ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  if  I  had  no  object  in  view." 

"  Have  you  any  business  in  the  city?" 

"  Yes,  sir;  I  am  going  to  take  a  place." 

Squire  Davenport  was  still  more  surprised,  and  asked  par- 
ticulars. These  Ben  readily  gave,  for  he  was  quite  elated  by 
his  good  fortune. 

"Oh,  that's  it,  is  it?"  said  the  squire,  contemptuously.  "I 
thought  you  might  have  secured  a  position  in  some  business 
house.  This  lady  probably  wants  you  to  answer  the  door- 
bell and  clean  the  knives,  or  something  of  that  sort." 

"  I  am  sure  she  does  not,"  said  Ben,  indignant  and  morti- 
fied. 

"  You'll  find  I  am  right,"  said  the  squire,  confidently. 
"  Young  man,  I  can't  congratulate  you  on  your  prospects. 
You  would  have  done  as  well  to  stay  in  Pentonville  and 
work  on  my  wood  pile." 


68  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  Whatever  work  I  may  do  in  New  York,  I  shall  be  a  good 
deal  better  paid  for  than  here,"  retorted  Ben. 

Squire  Davenport  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  began  to 
read  the  morning  paper.  To  do  him  justice,  he  only  said 
what  he  thought  when  he  predicted  to  Ben  that  he  would 
be  called  upon  to  do  menial  work. 

"  The  boy  won't  be  in  so  good  spirits  a  week  hence,"  he 
thought.  "  However,  that  is  not  my  affair.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  I  shall  get  possession  of  his  mother's  house  when 
the  three  months  are  up,  and  I  don't  at  all  care  where  he 
and  his  mother  go.  If  they  leave  Pentonville  I  shall  be  very 
well  satisfied.  I  have  no  satisfaction  in  meeting  either  of 
them,"  and  the  squire  frowned,  as  if  some  unpleasant  thought 
had  crossed  his  mind. 

Nothing  of  note  passed  during  the  remainder  of  the  jour- 
ney. Ben  arrived  in  New  York,  and  at  once  took  a  convey- 
ance uptown,  and  in  due  time  found  himself,  carpetbag  in 
hand,  on  the  front  steps  ot  Mrs.  Hamilton's  house. 

He  rang  the  bell,  and  the  door  was  opened  by  a  servant. 

"  She's  out  shopping,"  answered  the  girl,  looking  inquisi- 
tively at  Ben's  carpetbag.  "  Will  you  leave  a  message  for 
her?  " 

"  I  believe  I  am  expected,"  said  Ben,  feeling  a  little  awk- 
ward.    "My  name  is  Benjamin  Barclay." 

"  Mrs.  Hamilton  didn't  say  anything  about  expecting  any 
boy,"  returned  the  servant.  "  You  can  come  in,  if  you  like, 
and  I'll  call  Mrs.  Hill." 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  housekeeper,"   thought  Ben. 

"  Very  well,"  he  answered.  "  I  believe  I  will  come  in,  as 
Mrs.  Hamilton  wrote  to  me  to  come." 

Ben  left  his  bag  in  the  front  hall,  and  with  his  hat  in  his 
hand,  followed  the  servant  into  the  handsomely-furnished 
drawing-room. 

"  I  wish  Mrs.  Hamilton  had  been  here,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "  The  girl  seems  to  look  at  me  suspiciously.  I  hope 
the  housekeeper  knows  about  my  coming." 

Ben  sat  down  in  an  easy-chair  beside  a  marble-topped  cen- 
ter table,  and  waited  for  fifteen  minutes  before  any  one 
appeared.  He  beguiled  the  time  by  looking  over  a  hand- 
somely illustrated  book  of  views,  but  presently  the  door  was 
pushed  open  and  he  looked  up. 

The  newcomer  was  a  spare,  pale-faced  woman,  with  a 
querulous  expression,  who  stared  coldly  at  our  hero.  It  was 
clear  that  she  was  not  glad  to  see  him.  "  What  can  I  do 
for  you,  young  man?  "  she  asked  in  a  repellent  tone. 

"What  a  disagreeable-looking  woman!"  thought  Ben.  "I 
am  sure  we  shall  never  be  friends." 

"  Is  Mrs.  Hamilton  expected  in  soon?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  really  cannot  say.  She  does  not  report  to  me  how 
long  she  expects  to  be  gone." 


THE    STORE   BOY  69 

"  Didn't  she  speak  to  you  about  expecting  me?  "  asked  Ben, 
feeling  decidedly  uncomfortable. 

"  Not  a  word!  "  was  the  reply. 

"  She  wrote  to  me  to  come  here,  but  perhaps  she  did  not 
expect  me  so  soon." 

"  If  you  have  come  here  to  collect  a  bill,  or  with  any  busi- 
ness errand,  I  can  attend  to  you.  I  am  Mrs.  Hamilton's 
cousin." 

"  Thank  you;  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  see  Mrs.  Ham* 
ilton." 

"  Then  you  may  as  well  call  in  the  afternoon,  or  some 
other  day." 

"  That's  pretty  cool !  "  thought  Ben.  "  The  woman  wants 
to  get  me  out  of  the  house,  but  I  propose  to  '  hold  the  fort ' 
till  Mrs.  Hamilton  arrives." 

"  I  thought  you  might  know  that  I  am  going  to  stay  here," 
said  Ben. 

"What!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hill,  in  genuine  surprise. 

"  Mrs.  Hamilton  has  offered  me  a  position,  though  I  do 
not  know  what  the  duties  are  to  be,  and  I  am  going  to  make 
my  home  here." 

"Really  this  is  too  much!"  said  the  pale-faced  lady, 
sternly.    "  Here,  Conrad!  "  she  called,  going  to  the  door. 

A  third  party  made  his  appearance  on  the  scene,  a  boy 
who  looked  so  much  like  Mrs.  Hill  that  it  was  clear  she  was 
his  mother.  He  was  two  inches  taller  than  Ben,  but  looked 
pale  and  flabby. 

"What's  wanted,  ma?"  he  said,  staring  at  Ben. 

"  This  young  man  has  made  a  strange  mistake.  He  says 
Mrs.  Hamilton  has  sent  for  him  and  that  he  is  going  to  live 
here." 

"  He's  got  cheek,"  exclaimed  Conrad,  continuing  to  stare 
at  Ben. 

"Tell  him  that  he'd  better  go!" 

"You'd  better  go!"  said  the  boy,  like  a  parrot. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Ben,  provoked,  "  but  I  mean  to 
stay." 

"  Go  and  call  a  policeman,  Conrad,"  said  Mrs.  Hill.  "  We'll 
see  what  he'll  have  to  say  then." 


CHAPTER   XEX 

A   COOL   RECEPTION 

"  This  isn't  quite  the  reception  I  expected,"  thought  Ben. 
He  was  provoked  with  the  disagreeable  woman  who  persisted 
in  regarding  and  treating  him  as  an  intruder,  but  he  was  not 
in    the    least   nervous    or   alarmed.      He   knew   that   things 


70  THE    STORE   BOY 

would  come  right,  and  that  Mrs.  Hill  and  her  promising 
son  would  see  their  mistake.  He  had  half  a  mind  to  let 
Conrad  call  a  policeman,  and  then  turn  the  tables  upon  his 
foes.  But  he  knew  that  this  would  be  disagreeable  to  Mrs. 
Hamilton,  whose  feelings  he  was  bound  to  consider. 

"  Before  you  call  a  policeman,"  he  said  quietly,  "  it  may  bo 
well  for  you  to  read  this  letter." 

As  he  spoke  he  handed  Mrs.  Hill  the  letter  he  had  received 
from  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

Mrs.  Hill  took  the  letter  suspiciously,  and  glared  over  it. 
As  she  read,  a  spot  of  red  glowed  in  each  pallid  cheek,  and 
she  bit  her  lips  in  annoyance. 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  she  said,  slowly. 

Ben  did  not  feel  called  upon  to  explain  what  v/as  perfectly 
intelligible.  He  saw  that  Mrs.  Hill  didn't  want  to  understand 
it. 

"What  is  it,  ma?"  asked  Conrad,  his  curiosity  aroused. 

"  You  can  read  it  for  yourself,  Conrad,"  returned  his 
mother. 

"Is  he  coming  to  live  here?"  ejaculated  Conrad,  aston-* 
ished,  indicating  Ben  with  a  jerk  of  his  finger. 

"  If  this  letter  is  genuine,"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  with  a  significant 
emphasis  on  the  last  word. 

"  If  it  is  not,  Mrs.  Hamilton  will  be  sure  to  tell  you  so," 
said  Ben,  provoked. 

"  Come  out,  Conrad;  I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  said  his 
mother. 

Without  ceremony,  they  left  Ben  in  the  parlor  alone,  and 
withdrew  to  another  part  of  the  house,  where  they  held  a 
conference. 

"What  does  it  all  mean,  ma?"  asked  Conrad. 

"  It  means  that  your  prospects  are  threatened,  my  poor 
boy.  Cousin  Hamilton,  who  is  very  eccentric,  has  taken  a 
fancy  to  this  boy,  and  she  is  going  to  confer  favors  upon 
him  at  your  expense.    It  is  too  bad!" 

"I'd  like  to  break  his  head!"  said  Conrad,  scowling. 

"  It  won't  do,  Conrad,  to  fight  him  openly.  We  must  do 
what  we  can  in  an  underhand  way  to  undermine  him  with 
Cousin  Hamilton.  She  ought  to  make  you  her  heir,  as  sho 
has  no  children  of  her  own." 

"  I  don't  think  she  likes  me,"  said  the  boy.  "  She  only 
gives  me  two  dollars  a  week  allowance,  and  she  scolded  me 
the  other  day  because  she  met  me  in  the  hall  smoking  a 
cigarette." 

"  Be  sure  not  to  offend  her,  Conrad.  A  great  deal  depends 
on  it.  Two  dollars  ought  to  answer  for  the  present.  When 
you  are  a  young  man,  you  may  be  in  very  different  circum- 
stances." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  grumbled  Conrad.  "  I  may  get 
two  dollars  a  week  then,  but  what's  that?" 

"You   may  be  a  wealthy  man!"   said  his  mother,   im- 


THE    ST0R2    EOT  71 

pressively.  "Cousin  Hamilton  is  not  ?o  licaltby  as  she  looks. 
I  have  a  suspicion  that  her  heart  is  aiitoied.  .3hj  iiiiGht  die 
suddenly." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?"  said  Conrad,  eagerly. 

"  I  think  so.  What  you  must  try  to  do  is  to  stand  well  wi';h 
her,  and  get  her  to  make  her  will  in  your  favor,  I  will 
attend  to  that,  if  you  will  do  as  I  tell  you." 

"  She  may  make  this  boy  her  heir,"  said  Conrad,  discon- 
tentedly.    "Then  vdiere  would  I  be?" 

"  She  won't  do  it,  if  I  can  heliD  it,"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  with 
an  emphatic  nod.  "  I  will  manage  to  make  trouble  between 
them.     You  will  always  be  niy  first  interest,  niy  dear  boy." 

She  made  a  motion  to  kiss  her  dear  boy,  but  Conrad,  who 
was  by  no  means  of  an  affectionate  disposition,  moved  his 
head  suddenly,  with  an  impatient'  exclamation:  "Oh, 
bother!" 

A  pained  look  came  over  his  motn'^r'-:  ■f■^r.P'  f.or-  she  loved 
her  son,  unattractive  and  disagreeab!  vith  a  love 

the   greater  because   she   loved   no       .  the  vvorld. 

Mother  and  son  were  selfish  alike,  bat  the  son  the  more  so, 
for  he  had  not  a  spark  of  love  for  any  human  being.  • 

"There's  the  bell!"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  suddenly.  "1  do  be- 
lieve Cousin  Hamilton  has  come.  Now  we  shall  find  out 
whether  this  boy's  story  is  true." 

"Let's  go  dov/nstairs,  ma!  I  hope  it's  all  a  mistake,  and 
she'll  send  me  for  a  policeman." 

"  I  am  afraid  the  boy's  story  is  correct.  But  his  day  will 
be  short." 

When  they  reached  the  hall,  Mrs.  Hamilton  had  already 
been  admatted  to  the  house. 

"  There's  a  boy  in  the  drawing-room,  Rlrs.  Hamilton,"  said 
Mrs.  Hill,  "  who  says  he  is  to  stay  here — ^that  you  sent  for 
him." 

"  Has  he  come  already? "'  returned  Mrs.  Hamilton.  "  I  am 
glad  of  it." 

"  Then  you  did  send  for  nim?  " 

"Of  course.  Didn't  I  mention  it  to  you?  I  hardly  ex- 
pected he  would  come  so  soon." 

She  opened  the  door  of  the  drawing-room,  and  approached 
Ben,  with  extended  hand  and  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  Welcome  to  New  York,  Ben,"  she  said.  "  I  hope  I  haven't 
kept  you  waiting  long?  " 

"  Not  very  long,"  answered  Ben,  shaking  her  hand. 

"  This  is  my  cousin,  Mrs.  Hill,  who  relieves  me  of  part 
of  my  housekeeping  care,"  continued  Mrs.  Hamilton,  "  and 
this  is  her  son  Conrad.  Conrad,  this  is  a  companion  for  you, 
Benjamin  Barclay,  who  will  be  a  new  member  of  our  small 
family." 

"  I  hope  you  are  well,  Conrad,"  said  Ben,  with  a  smile, 
to  the  boy  who  but  a  short  time  before  was  going  for  a 
policeman  to  put  him  under  arrest. 

5  TT 


72  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  I'm  all  right,"  said  Conrad,  ungraciously. 

"  Really,  Cousin  Hamilton,  this  is  a  surprise,"  said  Mrs. 
Hill.  "  You  are  quite  kind  to  provide  Conrad  with  a  com- 
panion, but  I  don't  think  he  felt  the  need  of  any,  except  his 
mother— and  you." 

Mrs.  Hamilton  laughed.  She  saw  that  neither  Mrs.  Hill 
nor  Conrad  was  glad  to  see  Ben,  and  this  was  only  what 
she  expected,  and,  indeed,  this  was  the  chief  reason  why  she 
had  omitted  to  mention  Ben's  expected  arrival. 

"  You  give  me  too  much  credit,"  she  said,  "  if  you  think 
I  invited  this  young  gentleman  here  solely  as  a  companion 
to  Conrad.  I  shall  have  some  writing  and  accounts  for  him 
to  attend  to." 

"  I  am  sure  Conrad  would  have  been  glad  to  serve  you  in 
that  way,  Cousin  Hamilton,"  said  Mrs.  Hill.  "  I  am  sorry 
you  did  not  give  him  the  first  chance." 

"Conrad  wouldn't  have  suited  me,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton, 
bluntly. 

"  Perhaps  I  may  not  be  competent,"  suggested  Ben,  mod- 
estly. 

"  We  can  tell  better  after  trying  you,"  said  his  patroness. 
"As  for  Conrad,  I  have  obtained  a  position  for  him.  He 
is  to  enter  the  offices  of  Jones  &  WoodhuU,  on  Pearl  Street, 
to-morrow.  You  will  take  an  early  breakfast,  Conrad,  for 
it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  be  at  the  office  at  eight 
o'clock." 

"  How  much  am  I  to  get? "  asked  Conrad. 

"  Four  dollars  a  week.  I  shall  let  you  have  ail  this  in  lieu 
of  the  weekly  allowance  I  pay  you,  but  will  provide  you  with 
clothing,  as  heretofore,  so  that  this  will  keep  you  liberally 
supplied  with  pocket  money." 

Conrad's  brow  cleared.  He  was  lazy,  and  did  not  enjoy 
going  to  work,  but  the  increase  of  his  allowance  would  be 
satisfactory. 

"  And  now,  Ben,  Mrs.  Hill  will  kindly  show  you  your  room. 
It  is  the  large  hall  bedroom  on  the  third  floor.  When  you 
have  unpacked  your  valise,  and  got  to  feel  at  home,  come 
downstairs,  and  we  will  have  a  little  conversation  upon  busi- 
ness. You  will  find  me  in  the  sitting-room,  on  the  next 
floor." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ben,  politely,  and  he  followed  the  pallid 
cousin  upstairs.  He  was  shown  into  a  handsomely  furnished 
room,  bright  and  cheerful. 

"  This  is  a  very  pleasant  room,"  he  said. 

"You  won't  occupy  it  long!"  said  Mrs;  Hill  to  herself. 
"  No  one  will  step  into  my  Conrad's  place,  if  I  can  help  it." 


THE  STORE  BOY  73 

CHAPTER  XX 

ENTERING  UPON   HIS  DUTIES 

When  Ben  had  taken  out  his  clothing  from  his  valise  and 
put  it  away  in  the  drawers  of  the  handsome  bureau  which 
formed  a  part  of  the  furniture  of  his  room,  he  went  down- 
stairs, and  found  his  patroness  in  a  cozy  sitting-room  on  the 
second  floor.  It  was  furnished,  Ben  could  not  help  think- 
ing, more  as  if  it  were  designed  for  a  gentleman  than  a 
lady.  In  one  corner  was  a  library  table,  with  writing  ma- 
terials, books  and  papers  upon  it,  and  an  array  of  drawers 
on  either  side  of  the  central  part. 

"  Come  right  in,  Ben,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  who  was  seated 
at  the  table.    "  We  will  talk  of  business." 

This  Ben  was  quite  willing  to  do.  He  was  anxious  to 
know  what  were  to  be  his  duties,  that  he  might  judge 
whether  he  was  competent  to  discharge  them. 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  to  begin  with,"  said  his  patroness,  "  that 
I  am  possessed  of  considerable  wealth,  as,  indeed,  you  may; 
have  judged  by  my  way  of  living.  I  have  no  children,  un-i 
fortunately,  and,  being  unwilling,  selfishly,  to  devote  my  en- 
tire means  to  my  own  use  exclusively,  I  try  to  help  others 
in  a  way  that  I  think  most  suitable,  Mrs.  Hill,  who  acts  as 
my  housekeeper,  is  a  cousin,  who  made  a  poor  marriage,  and 
was  left  penniless.    I  have  given  a  home  to  her  and  her  son." 

"  I  don't  think  Mrs.  Hill  likes  my  being  here,"  said  Ben. 

"Yoii  are,  no  doubt,  right.  She  is  foolish  enough  to  be 
jealous,  because  I  do  not  bestow  all  my  favors  upon  her." 

"  I  think  she  will  look  upon  me  as  the  rival  of  her  son." 

"  I  expected  she  would.  Perhaps  she  will  learn,  after  a 
while,  that  I  can  be  a  friend  to  you  and  him  both,  though, 
I  am  free  to  admit,  I  have  never  been  able  to  take  any  fancy, 
to  Conrad,  nor,  indeed,  was  his  mother  a  favorite  with  me. 
But  for  her  needy  circumstances,  she  is,  perhaps,  the  last 
of  my  relatives  that  I  would  invite  to  become  a  member 
of  my  household.  However,  to  come  to  business:  My  money 
is  invested  in  various  ways.  Besides  the  ordinary  forms 
of  investment,  stocks,  bonds  and  mortgages,  I  have  set  up 
two  or  three  young  men,  whom  I  thought  worthy,  in  busi- 
ness, ,  and  require  them  to  send  in  monthly  statements  of 
their  business  to  me.  You  see,  therefore,  that  I  have  more 
or  less  to  do  with  accounts.  I  never  had  much  taste  for 
figures,  and  it  struck  me  that  I  might  relieve  myself  of 
considerable  drudgery  if  I  could  obtain  your  assistance,  un- 
der my  supervision,  of  course.  I  hope  you  have  a  taste  for 
figures?" 

"  Arithmetic  and  algebra  are  my  favorite  studies,"  said 
Ben,  promptly. 


74  THE    STORE    BOY 

"  I  am  glad  of  it.  Of  course,  I  did  not  know  that,  but  had 
you  not  been  well  versed  in  accounts,  I  meant  to  send  you 
to  a  commercial  school  to  qualify  you  for  the  duties  I  wished 
to  impose  upon  you," 

"  I  don't  think  it  will  be  necessary,"  answered  Ben.  "  I 
have  taken  lessons  in  bookkeeping  at  home,  and,  though  it 
seems  like  boasting,  I  was  better  in  mathematics  than  any 
of  my  schoolfellows." 

"I  am  so  glad  to  hear  that.    Can  you  write  well?" 

"Shall  I  write  something  for  you?" 

"  Do  so." 

Mrs.  Hamilton  vacated  her  place,  and  Ben,  sitting  at  the 
desk,  wrote  two  or  three  copies  from  remembrance. 

"Very  well,  indeed!"  said  his  patroness,  approvingly.  "I 
see  that  in  engaging  you  I  have  made  no  mistake." 

Ben's  cheek  flushed  with  pleasure,  and  he  was  eager  to 
enter  upon  his  new  duties.  But  he  could  not  help  wonder- 
ing why  he  had  been  selected  when  Conrad  was  already  in 
the  house,   and  unemployed.     He  ventured  to  say: 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  why  you  did  not  employ  Con- 
rad, instead  of  sending  for  me?" 

"  There  are  two  good  and  sufflcient  reasons :  Conrad  is 
not  competent  for  such  an  office :  and  secondly,  I  should  not 
like  to  have  the  boy  about  me  as  much  as  he  would  need 
to  be.  I  have  obtained  for  him  a  position  out  of  the  house. 
One  question  remains  to  be  considered:  How  much  wages 
do  you  expect? " 

"  I  would  prefer  to  leave  that  to  you,  Mrs.  Hamilton.  I 
cannot  expect  high  pay." 

"Will  ten  dollars  a  week  be  adequate?" 

"  I  can't  earn  as  much  money  as  that,"  said  Ben,  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  Perhaps  not,  and  yet  I  am  not  sure.  If  you  suit  me,  it 
will  be  worth  my  while  to  pay  you  as  much." 

"  But  Conrad  will  only  receive  four  dollars  a  week.  Won't 
he  be  angry?  " 

"  Conrad  is  not  called  upon  to  support  his  mother,  as  I 
understand  you  are." 

"You  are  very  kind  to  think  of  that,  Mrs.  Hamilton." 

"  I  want  to  be  kind  with  you,  Ben,"  said  his  patroness, 
with  a  pleasant  smile. 

"When  shall  I  commence  my  duties?" 

"  Now.  You  will  copy  this  statement  into  the  ledger  you 
see  here.  Before  doing  so,  will  you  look  over  and  verify 
the  figures?" 

Ben  was  soon  hard  at  work.  He  was  interested  in  his 
work,  and  the  time  slipped  fast.  After  an  hour  and  a  half 
had  passed,  Mrs.  Hamilton  said: 

"  It  is  about  time  for  lunch,  and  I  think  there  will  be  no 
more  to  do  to-day.    Are  you  familiar  with  New  York? " 

"No;  I  have  spent  very  little  time  in  the  city." 


THE   STORE   BOY  75' 

"  You  will,  no  doubt,  like  to  look  about.    We  have  dinner  ' 
at  six  sharp.     You  will  be  on  time?" 

"  I  will  be  sure  to  be  here." 

"That  reminds  me — have  you.  a  watch?" 

Ben  shook  his  head.  , 

*'  I  thought  it  might  be  so.  I  have  a  good  silver  watch, 
which  I  have  no  occasion  for." 

Mrs.  Hamilton  left  the  room,  and  quickly  returned  with 
a  neat  silver  hunting-case  watch,  with  a  gilt  chain. 

"  This  is  yours,  Ben,"  she  said,  "  if  you  like  it." 

"Do  you  give  it  to  me?"  asked  Ben,  joyously.  He  had 
only  expected  that  it  would  be  loaned  to  him. 

"  Yes,  I  give  to  you,  and  I  hope  you  will  find  it  useful." 

"  How  can  I  thank  you,  Mrs.  Hamilton,  for  your  kind- 
ness?" 

"  You  are  more  grateful  than  Conrad.  I  gave  him  one 
just  like  it,  and  he  was  evidently  dissatisfied  because  it  was 
not  gold.    When  you  are  older,  the  gold  watch  may  come." 

"  I  am  very  well  pleased  with  the  silver  watch,  for  I  have 
long  wanted  one,  but  did  not  see  any  way  of  obtaining  it." 

"  You  are  wise  in  having  moderate  desires,  Ben.  But 
there  goes  the  lunch  bell.  You  may  want  to  wash  your 
hands.  When  you  have  done  so,  come  down  to  the  dining-i 
room,  in  the  rear  of  the  drawing-room." 

Mrs.  Hill  and  Conrad  were  already  seated  at  the  table 
when  Ben  descended. 

"  Take  a  seat  opposite  Conrad,  Ben,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton, 
who  was  sitting  at  one  end  of  the  table. 

The  lunch  was  plain  but  substantial,  and  Ben,  who  had 
taken  an  early  breakfast,  enjoyed  it. 

"I  suppose  we  shall  not  have  Conrad  at  lunch  to-mor- 
row? "  said  Mrs.  Hamilton.    "  He  will  be  at  the  store." 

Conrad  made  a  grimace.  He  would  have  enjoyed  his  free-i 
dom  better. 

"  I  won't  have  much  of  my  four  dollars  left  if  I  have  to 
pay  for  lunch,"  he  said,  in  a  surly  tone. 

"  You  shall  have  a  reasonable  allowance  for  that  purpose." 

"I  suppose  Mr.  Barclay  will  lunch  at  home?"  said  Mrs. 
Hill. 

"Certainly,  since  his  work  will  be  here.  He  is  to  be  my; 
home  clerk,  and  will  keep  my  accounts." 

"  You  needn't  have  gone  out  of  the  house  for  a .  clerk. 
Cousin  Hamilton.  I  am  sure  Conrad  would  have  been  glad 
of  the  work." 

"  It  will  be  better  for  Conrad  to  learn  business  in  a  largeCj 
establishment,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  quietly. 

This  was  a  new  way  of  looking  at  it,  and  helped  to  recon-i 
cile  Mrs.  Hill  to  an  arrangement  which  at  first  had  disap-.' 
pointed  her. 

"  Have   you    any    engagement    this    afternoon,    Conrad? "- 


76  THE   STORE   BOY 

asked  Mrs.  Hamilton.  "Ben  will  have  nothing  to  do,  and 
you  could  show  him  the  city." 

"  I've  got  an  engagement  with  a  fellow,"  said  Conrad, 
hastily. 

"  I  can  find  my  way  about  alone,  thank  you,"  said  Ben. 
•'  I  won't  trouble  Conrad." 

"  Very  well.  This  evening,  however,  Ben,  I  think  you  may 
enjoy  going  to  the  theatre.  Conrad  can  accompany  you,  un- 
less he  has  another  engagement." 

"  I'll  go  with  him,"  said  Conrad,  more  graciously,  for  he 
was  fond  of  amusements. 

"  Then  we  will  all  meet  at  dinner,  and  you  two  young  gen- 
tlemen can  leave  in  good  time  for  the  theatre." 


CHAPTER   XXI 

AT  THE  THEATRE 

'  After  dinner,  Ben  and  Conrad  started  to  walk  to  the  the- 
atre. The  distance  was  about  a  mile,  but  in  the  city  there 
is  so  much  always  to  be  seen  that  one  does  not  think  of 
distance. 

Conrad,  who  was  very  curious  to  ascertain  Ben's  status  in 
the  household,  lost  no  time  in  making  inquiries. 

"What  does  my  aunt  find  for  you  to  do?"  he  asked. 

It  may  be  remarked,  by  the  way,  that  no  such  relationship 
ever  existed  between  them,  but  Mrs.  Hill  and  her  son  thought 
it  politic  to  make  the  relationship  seem  as  close  as  pos- 
sible, as  it  would,  perhaps,  increase  their  apparent  claim 
upon  their  rich  relative. 

Ben  answered  the  question. 

"  You'll  have  a  stupid  time,"  said  Conrad.  "  All  the  same, 
she  ought  to  have  given  the  place  to  me.  How  much  does 
she  pay  you?  " 

Ben  hesitated,  for  he  knew  that  his  answer  would  make 
his  companion  discontented. 

"I  am  not  sure  whether  I  am -at  liberty  to  tell,"  he  an- 
swered, with  hesitation. 

"  There  isn't  any  secret  about  it,  is  there?  "  said  Conrad, 
sharply. 

"  No,  I  suppose  not.    I  am  to  receive  ten  dollars  a  week." 

"Ten  dollars  a  week!"  ejaculated  Conrad,  stopping  short 
in  the  street. 
.  ■    "  Yes." 

"And  I  get  but  four!    That's  a  shame!" 
I      "  I  shall  really  have  no  more  than  you,  Conrad.     I  have 
I  ia  mother  to  provide  for,  and  I  shall  send  home  six  dollars 
[^  a  week  regularly." 


THE   STORE   BOY  77' 

"That  doesn't  make  any  difference!"  exclaimed  Conrad, 
in  excitement.  "  It's  awfully  mean  of  aunt  to  treat  you  so 
much  better  than  she  does  me." 

"  You  mustn't  say  that  to  me,"  said  Ben.  "  She  has  been 
kind  to  us  both,  and  I  don't  like  to  hear  anything  said  against 
her." 

"  You're  not  going  to  tell  her?  "  said  Conrad,  suspiciously. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Ben,  indignantly.  "  What  do  you 
take  me  for?  " 

"  Some  fellows  would,  to  set  Aunt  Hamilton  against  me." 

"I  am  not  so  mean  as  that." 

"I  am  glad  I  can  depend  on  you.  You  see,  the  old  lady  is 
awfully  rich — doesn't  know  what  to  do  with  her  money — and 
as  she  has  no  son,  or  anybody  nearer  than  me  and  inother, 
it's  natural  we  should  inherit  her  money." 

"I  hope  she  will  enjoy  it  herself  for  a  good  many  years." 

"Oh,  she's  getting  old!"  said  Conrad,  carelessly.  "She 
can't  expect  to  live  forever.  It  wouldn't  be  fair  for  young 
people  if  their  parents  lived  to  a  hundred.    Now,  would  it?  " 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  my  mother  live  to  a  hun- 
dred, if  she  could  enjoy  life,"  said  Ben,  disgusted  with  his 
companion's  sordid  selfishness. 

"  Your  mother  hasn't  got  any  money,  and  that  makes  a 
difference." 

Ben  had  a  reply,  but  he  reflected  it  would  be  of  little  use 
to  argue  with  one  who  took  such  widely  different  views  as 
Conrad.  Moreover,  they  were  already  within  a  block  or  two 
of  the  theatre. 

The  best  seats  were  priced  at  a  dollar  and  a  half,  and  Mrs. 
Hamilton  had  given  Conrad  three  dollars  to  purchase  one  for; 
Ben  and  one  for  himself. 

"  It  seems  an  awful  price  to  pay  a  dollar  and  a  half  for 
a  seat,"  said  Conrad.  "  Suppose  we  go  up  into  the  gallery, 
where  the  seats  are  only  fifty  cents?" 

"  I  think  Mrs.  Hamilton  meant  us  to  take  higher-priced 
seats." 

"  She  won't  care,  or  know,  unless  we  choose  to  tell  her," 

"Then  you  don't  propose  to  give  her  back  the  differ- 
ence?" 

"  You  don't  take  me  for  a  fool,  do  you?  I'll  tell  you  what 
I'll  do.  If  you  don't  mind  a  fifty-cent  seat,  I'll  give  you 
twenty-five  cents  out  of  this  money." 

Ben  could  hardly  believe  Conrad  was  in  earnest  in  this 
exhibition  of  meanness. 

"Then,"  said  he,  "you  would  clear  seventy-five  cents  on 
my  seat  and  a  dollar  on  your  own?" 

"You  can  see  almost  as  well  in  the  gallery,"  said  Con- 
rad.   "  I'll  give-you  fifty  cents,  if  you  insist  upon  it." 

"  I  insist  upon  having  my  share  of  the  money  spent  for 
a  seat,"  said  Ben,  contemptuously.  "  You  can  sit  where  you 
please,  of  course. 


78  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  You  ain't  very  obliging,"  said  Conrad,  sullenly,  "  "  I  need 
the  money,  and  that's  what  made  me  propose  it.  As  you've 
made  so  much  fuss  about  it,  we'll  take  orchestra  seats." 

This  he  did,  though  unwillingly. 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  ever  like  that  boy,"  thought  Ben. 
"  He's  a  little  too  mean." 

They  both  enjoyed  the  play,  Ben  perhaps  with  the  most 
zest,  for  he  had  never  before  attended  a  city  theatre.  At 
eleven  o'clock  the  curtain  fell,  and  they  went  out. 

"  Come,  Ben,"  said  Conrad,  "  you  might  treat  a  fellow  to 
soda  water." 

"I  will,"  answered  Ben.    "Where  shall  we  go?" 

"  Just  opposite.  They've  got  fine  soda  water  across  the 
street." 

The  boys  drank  their  soda  water,  and  started  to  go  home. 

"  Suppose  we  go  in  somewhere  and  have  a  game  of 
billiards?"  suggested  Conrad. 

"  I  don't  play,"  answered  Ben. 

"I'll  teach  you;  come  along,"  urged  Conrad. 

"  It  is  getting  late,  and  I  would  rather  not." 

"  I  suppose  you  go  to  roost  with  the  chickens  in  the  coun- 
try," sneered  Conrad.  "  You'll  learn  better  in  the  city — if 
you  stay." 

"  There  is  another  reason,"  continued  Ben.  "  I  suppose 
it  costs  money  to  play  billiards,  and  I  have  none  to  spare." 

"  Only  twenty-five  cents  a  game." 

"  It  will  be  cheaper  to  go  to  bed." 

"  You  won't  do  anything  a  feller  wants  you  to,"  grumbled 
Conrad.  "  You  needn't  be  so  mean,  when  you  are  getting  ten 
dollars  a  week." 

"  I  have  plenty  to  do  with  my  money,  and  I  want  to  save 
up  something  every  week." 

On  the  whole,  the  boys  did  not  take  to  each  other.  They 
took  very  different  views  of  life  and  duty,  and  there  seemed 
to  be  small  prospect  of  their  becoming  intimate  friends. 

Mrs.  Hamilton  had  gone  to  bed  when  they  returned,  but 
Mrs.  Hill  was  up  watching  for  her  son.  She  was  a  cold,  dis- 
agreeable woman,  but  she  was  devoted  to  her  boy. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  home  so  soon,"  she  said. 

"  I  wanted  to  play  a  game  of  billiards,  but  Ben  wouldn't," 
grumbled  Conrad. 

"  If  you  had  done  so,  I  should  have  had  to  sit  up  later 
for  you,  Conrad." 

"  There  was  no  use  in  sitting  up  for  me.  I  ain't  a  baby," 
responded  Conrad,  ungratefully. 

"  You  know  I  can't  sleep  when  I  know  you  are  out,  Con- 
rad." 

"  Then  you're  very  foolish.    Isn't  she,  Ben?" 

"  My  mother  would  feel  just  so,"  answered  Ben. 

Mrs.  Hill  regarded  him  almost  kindly.  He  had  done  hep  a 
good  turn  in  bringing  her  son  home  in  good  season. 


THE    STORE   BOY  79 

"She  may  be  a  disagreeable  woman,"  thought  Ben,  "but 
she  is  good  to  Conrad,"  and  this  made  him  regard  the  house- 
keeper with  more  favor. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

A  MYSTERIOUS  LETTER 

From  time  to  time,  Mrs.  Hamilton  sent  Ben  on  errands  to 
different  parts  of  the  city,  chiefly  to  those  who  had  been 
started  in  business  with  capital  which  she  had  supplied. 
One  afternoon,  he  was  sent  to  a  tailor  on  Sixth  Avenue  with 
a  note,  the  contents  of  which  were  unknown  to  him, 

"  You  may  wait  for  an  answer,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

He  readily  found  the  tailor's  shop,  and  called  for  Charles 
Roberts,  the  proprietor. 

The  latter  read  the  note,  and  said,  in  a  businesslike  tone: 

"  Come  to  the  back  part  of  the  shop,  and  I  will  show  you 
some  goods." 

Ben  regarded  him  in  surprise. 

"Isn't  there  some  mistake?"  he  said.  "I  didn't  know  I 
was  to  look  at  any  goods." 

"  As  we  are  to  make  a  suit  for  you,  I  supposed  you  would 
have  some  choice  in  the  matter,"  returned  the  tailor,  equally 
surprised. 

"  May  I  look  at  the  letter?  "  asked  Ben. 

The  tailor  put  it  into  his  hands. 
It  ran  thus: 

"  Mr.  Roberts  :  You  will  make  a  suit  for  the  bearer,  from 
any  goods  he  may  select,  and  charge  to  the  account  of 

"  Helen  Hamilton." 

"  Mrs.  Hamilton  did  not  tell  me  what  was  in  the  note,"  said 
Ben,  smiling.    "  She  is  very  kind." 

Ben  allowed  himself  to  be  guided  by  the  tailor,  and  the 
result  was  a  handsome  suit,  which  was  sent  home  in  due 
time,  and  immediately  attracted  the  attention  of  Conrad. 
Ben  had  privately  thanked  his  patroness,  but  had  felt  under 
no  obligation  to  tell  Conrad. 

"Seems  to  me  you  are  getting  extravagant!"  said  Con- 
rad, enviously. 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  am,"  answered  Ben,  good-naturedly. 

**  How  much  did  you  pay  for  it?  " 

"  The  price  was  thirty-five  dollars." 

**  That's  too  much  for  a  boy  in  your  circumstances  to  pay." 

"  I  think  so  myself,  but  I  shall  make  it  last  a  long  time." 


80  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  I  mean  to  make  Aunt  Hamilton  buy  me  a  new  suit," 
grumbled  Conrad. 

"  I  have  no  objection,  I  am  sure,"  said  Ben. 

"  I  didn't  ask  your  permission,"  said  Conrad,  rudely. 

"  I  wonder  what  he  would  say  if  he  knew  that  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton paid  for  my  suit?"  Ben  said  to  himself.  He  wisely 
decided  to  keep  the  matter  secret,  as  he  knew  that  Conrad 
would  be  provoked  to  hear  of  this  new  proof  of  his  relative's 
partiality  for  the  boy  whom  he  regarded  as  a  rival. 

Conrad  lost  no  time  in  preferring  his  request  to  Mrs.  Ham-i 
ilton  for  a  new  suit. 

"  I  bought  you  a  suit  two  months  since,"  said  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton, quietly.  "  Why  do  you  come  to  me  for  another  so 
soon?" 

"  Ben  has  a  new  suit,"  answered  Conrad,  a  little  confused- 

"  I  don't  know  that  that  has  anything  to  do  with  yoii. 
However,  I  will  ask  Ben  when  he  had  his  last  new  suit." 

Ben,  who  was  present,  replied: 

"  It  was  last  November." 

"  Nearly  a  year  since.  I  will  take  care  that  you  are  sup-* 
plied  with  new  suits  as  often  as  Ben." 

Conrad  retired  from  the  presence  of  his  relative  much  dis-« 
gusted.  He  did  not  know,  but  suspected,  that  Ben  was  in- 
debted to  Mrs.  Hamilton  for  his  new  suit,  and  although  this 
did  not  interfere  with  a  liberal  provision  for  him,  he  felt 
unwilling  that  any  one  beside  himself  should  bask  in  the 
favor  of  his  rich  relative.  He  made  a  discovery  that 
troubled  him  about  this  time. 

"  Let  me  see  your  watch,  Ben,"  he  said,  one  day. 

Ben  took  out  the  watch  and  placed  it  in  his  hand. 

"  It's  just  like  mine,"  said  Conrad,  after  a  critical  exam-t 
ination. 

"Is  it?" 

"Yes;  don't  you  see?    Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"  It  was  a  gift,"  answered  Ben. 

"From  my  aunt?" 

"  It  was  given  me  by  Mrs.  Hamilton." 

"  She  seems  to  be  very  kind  to  you,'-'  sneered  Conrad,  witK 
a  scowl. 

"  She  is,  indeed !  "  answered  Ben,  earnestly. 

"  You've  played  your  cards  well,"  said  Conrad,  coarsely. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  returned  Ben,  coldly. 

"  I  mean  that,  knowing  her  to  be  rich,  you  have  done  well 
to  get  on  the  blind  side  of  her." 

"  I  can't  accept  the  compliment,  if  you  mean  it  as  such. 
I  don't  think  Mrs.  Hamilton  has  any  blind  side,  and  the  only 
way  in  which  I  intend  to  commehd  myself  to  her  favor  is 
to  be  faithful  to  her  interests." 

"  Oh,  you're  mighty  innocent;  but,  all  the  same,  you  know 
how  to  feather  your  own  nest." 

"  In  a  good  sense,  I  hope  I  do.    I  don't  suppose  any  one 


THE    STORE    BOY  81 

-else  will  take  the  trouble  to  feather  it  for  me.    I  think"  hon- 
esty and  fidelity  are  good  policy,  don't  you?" 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  be  an  angel,"  answered  Conrad,  sul- 
lenly. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Ben,  laughing. 

Some  days  later,  Conrad  came  to  Ben  one  day,  looking 
mora  cordial  than  usual. 

"  Ben,"  he  said,  "  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Will  you  grant  it?" 

"  I  want  to  know  first  what  it  is." 

"Lend  me  five  dollars?" 
,  Ben  stared  at  Conrad  in  surprise.  He  had  just  that 
amount,  after  sending  home  money  to  his  mother,  but  he 
intended  that  afternoon  to  deposit  three  dollars  out  of  it 
in  the  savings  bank,  feeling  that  he  ought  to  be  laying  up 
money  while  he  was  so  favorably  situated. 

"  How  do  you  happen  to  be  short  of  money?  "  he  asked. 

"That  doesn't  need  telling.  I  have  only  four  dollars  a 
week  pocket  money,  and  I  am  pinched  all  the  time." 

"Then,  supposing  I  lent  you  the  money,  how  could  you 
manage  to  pay  me  back  out  of  this  small  allowance?" 

"  Oh,  I  expect  to  get  some  money  in  another  way,  but  I 
can't,  unless  you  lend  me  the  money." 

"Would  you  mind  telling  me  how?" 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,  a  fellow  I  know — that  is,  I  have  heard 
of  him — has  just  drayVn  a  prize  of  a  thousand  dollars  in  a 
[Havana  lottery.    All  he  paid  for  his  ticket  was  five  dollars." 

"  And  is  this  the  way  you  expect  to  make  some  money?  " 

"Yes;  I  am  almost  sure  of  winning." 

"  Suppose  you  don't?  " 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  of  looking  at  the  dark  side?" 

"  You  are  not  so  sensible  as  I  thought,  Conrad,"  said  Ben. 
*'  At  least  a  hundred  draw  a  blank  to  one  who  draws  a  small 
prize,  and  the  chances  are  a  hundred  to  one  against  you." 

"Then  you  won't  lend  me  the  money?"  said  Conrad, 
angrily. 

"  I  would  rather  not." 

"Then- you're  a  mean  fellow!" 

"Thank  you  for  your  good  opinion,  but  I  won't  change 
my  determination." 

"  You  get  ten  dollars  a  week?  " 

"  I  shall  not  spend  two  dollars  a  week  on  my  own  amuse- 
ment,  or  for  my  own  purposes." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  rest,  then?" 

"  Part  I  shall  send  to  my  mother;  part  I  mean  to  put  in 
some  savings  bank." 

"  You  mean  to  be  a  miser,  then?  " 

"  If  to  save  money  makes  one  a  miser,  then  I  shall  be 
one." 

Conrad  left  the  room  in  an  angry  mood.    He  was  one  with 


82  THE   STORE   BOY 

whom  prosperity  didn't  agree.  Whatever  his  allowance 
might  be,  he  wished  to  spend  more.  Looking  upon  himself 
as  Mrs.  Hamilton's  heir,  he  could  not  understand  the  need 
or  expediency  of  saving  money.  He  was  not  wholly  to 
blame  for  this,  as  his  mother  encouraged  him,  in  hopes 
which  had  no  basis  except  in  his  own  and  her  wishes. 

Not  quite  three  weeks  after  Ben  had  become  established  in 
his  new  home,  he  received  a  letter  which  mystified  and  ex-« 
cited  him. 

It  ran  thus: 

"  If  you  will  come  at  nine  o'clock  this  evening  to  No.  — 
West  Thirty-first  Street,  and  call  for  me,  you  will  hear;, 
something  to  your  advantage.  James  Barnes.''' 

"  It  may  be  something  relating  to  my  father's  affairs," 
thought  Ben.    "  I  will  go." 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

ben's  visit  to  thirty-first  street 

Ben's  evenings  being  unoccupied,  he  had  no  difficulty  in 
meeting  the  appointment  made  for  him.  He  was  afraid  Con- 
rad might  ask  him  to  accompany  him  somewhere,  and  thus 
involve  the  necessity  of  an  explanation, .  which  he  did  not 
care  to  give  until  he  had  himself  found  out  why  he  had 
been  summoned. 

The  address  given  by  James  Barnes  was  easy  to  find.  Be& 
found  himself  standing  before  a  brick  building  of  no  un-- 
common  exterior.  The  second  floor  seemed  to  be  lighted 
up;  the  windows  were  hung  with  crimson  curtains,  which 
shut  out  a  view  of  what  was  transpiring  within. 

Ben  rang  the  bell.  The  door  was  opened  by  a  colored 
servant,  who  looked  at  the  boy  inquiringly. 

"  Is  Mr.  Barnes  within? "  asked  Ben. 

"  I  don't  know  the  gentleman,"  was  the  answer. 

"  He  sent  me  a  letter,  asking  me  to  meet  him  here  at  nine 
o'clock." 

"Then  I  guess  it's  all  right.    Are  you  a  telegraph  boy?" 

"  No,"  answered  Ben,  in  surprise. 

"  I  reckon  it's  all  right,"  said  the  negro  rather  to  himself 
than  to  Ben.     "  Come  upstairs." 

Ben  followed  his  guide,  and  at  the  first  landing  a  door 
was  thrown  open.     Mechanically,  Ben  followed  the  servant 
into  the  room,  but  he  had  not  made  half  a  dozen  steps  when  . 
he  looked  around  in  surprise  and  bewilderment.    Novice  aa 
he  was,  a  glance  satisfied  him  that  he  was  in  a  gambling 


THE    STORE    BOY  83 

house.  The  double  room  was  covered  with  a  soft,  thick  car- 
pet, chandeliers  depended  from  the  ceiling,  frequent  mir- 
rors reflecting  the  brilliant  lights  enlarged  the  apparent  size 
of  the  apartment,  and  a  showy  bar  at  one  end  of  the  room 
held  forth  an  alluring  invitation  which  most  failed  to  resist. 
Around  tables  were  congregated  men,  young  and  old,  each 
with  an  intent  look,  watching  the  varying  chances  of  for- 
tune. 

"  I'll  inquire  if  Mr.  Barnes  is  here,"  said  Peter,  the  col- 
ored servant. 

Ben  stood  uneasily  looking  at  the  scene  till  Peter  came 
ba:ck. 

"  Must  be  some  mistake,"  he  said.  "  There's  no  gen'le- 
man  of  the  name  of  Barnes  here." 

"  It's  strange,"  said  Ben,  perplexed. 

He  turned  to  go  out,  but  was  interrupted.  A  man  with 
a  sinister  expression,  and  the  muscle  of  a  prize  fighter, 
walked  up  to  him  and  said,  with  a  scowl : 

"What  brings  you  here,  kid?  " 

"  I  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Barnes,  appointing  to  meet 
me  here." 

"  I  believe  you're  lying.    No  such  man  comes  here." 

"  I  never  lie,"  exclaimed  Ben,  indignantly. 

"  Have  you  got  that  letter  about  you? "  asked  the  man, 
suspiciously. 

Ben  felt  in  his  pocket  for  the  letter,  but  felt  in  vain. 

"  I  think  I  must  have  left  it  at  home,"  he  said,  nervously. 

The  man's  face  darkened. 

"I  believe  you  come  here  as  a  spy,"  he  said. 

"Then  you  are  mistaken!"  said  Ben,  looking  him  fear- 
lessly in  the  face. 

"  I  hope  so  for  your  sake.  Do  you  know  what  kind  of  a 
place  this  is?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  is  a  gambling  house,"  Ben  answered,  with- 
out hesitation. 

"Did  you  know  this  before  you  came  here?" 

"  I  had  not  the  least  idea  of  it." 

The  man  regarded  him  suspiciously,  but  no  one  could  look 
into  Ben's  honest  face  and  doubt  his  word. 

"  At  any  rate,  you  have  found  it  out.  Do  you  mean  to 
blab?" 

"No;  that  is  no  business  of  mine." 

"  Then  you  can  go,  but  take  care  that  you  never  come  here 
again." 

"  I  certainly  never  will." 

"  Give  me  your  name  and  address." 

"  Why  do  you  want  it?  " 

"  Because  if  you  break  your  word,  you  will  be  tracked  and 
punished." 

"  I  have  no  fear,"  answered  Ben,  and  he  gave  his  name  and 
address. 


84  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  Never  admit  this  boy  again,  Peter,"  said  the  man  with 
whom  Ben  had  been  conversing;  "  neither  this  boy,  nor  any 
other,  except  a  telegraph  boy." 

"All  right,  sah." 

A  minute  later,  Ben  found  himself  on  the  street,  very 
much  perplexed  by  the  events  of  the  evening.  Who  could 
have  invited  him  to  a  gambling  house,  and  with  what  object 
in  view?  Moreover,  why  had  not  James  Barnes  kept  the 
appointment  he  had  himself  made?  These  were  questions 
which  Ben  might  have  been  better  able  to  answer  if  he  could 
have  seen,  just  around  the  corner,  the  triumphant  look  of 
one  who  was  stealthily  watching  him. 

This  person  was  Conrad  Hill,  who  took  care  to  vacate  his 
position  before  Ben  had  reached  the  place  where  he  was 
standing. 

"So  far,  so  good!"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "Master  Ben 
has  been  seen  coming  out  of  a  gambling  house.  That  won't 
be  likely  to  recommend  him  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  and  she  shall 
know  it  before  long." 

Ben  could  not  understand  what  had  become  of  the  note 
summoning  him  to  the  gambling  house.  In  fact,  he  had  dis- 
lodged it  from  the  vest  pocket  in  which  he  thrust  it,  and  it 
had  fallen  upon  the  carpet  near  the  desk  in  what  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton called  her  "  office."  Having  occasion  to  enter  the  room 
in  the  evening,  his  patroness  saw  it  on  the  carpet,  picked  it 
up,  and  read  it,  not  without  surprise. 

"  This  is  a  strange  note  for  Ben  to  receive,"  she  said  to 
herself.     "I  wonder  what  it  means?" 

Of  course,  she  had  no  idea  of  the  character  of  the  place 
indicated,  but  was  inclined  to  hope  that  some  good  luck  was 
really  in  store  for  her  young  secretary. 

"  He  will  be  likely  to  tell  me  sooner  or  later,"  she  said  to 
herself.  "  I  will  wait  patiently,  and  let  him  choose  his  own 
time.    Meanwhile,  I  will  keep  the  note." 

Mrs.  Hamilton  did  not  see  Ben  till  the  next  morning.  Then 
he  looked  thoughtful,  but  said  nothing.  He  was  puzzling 
himself  over  what  had  happened.  He  hardly  knew  whether 
to  conclude  that  the  whole  thing  was  a  trick,  or  that  the 
note  was  written  in  good  faith. 

"  I  don't  understand  why  the  writer  should  have  appointed 
to  meet  me  at  such  a  place,"  he  reflected.  "  Perhaps  I  shall 
hear  from  him  again." 

It  was  this  reflection  which  led  him  to  keep  the  matter 
secret  from  Mrs.  Hamilton,  to  whom  he  had  been  tempted 
to  speak. 

"  I  will  wait  till  I  know  more,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  This 
Barnes  knows  my  address,  and  he  can  communicate  with 
me  if  he  chooses." 

Of  course,  the  reader  understands  that  Conrad  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  trick,  and  that  the  object  was  to  persuade  Mrs. 
Hamilton  that  the  boy  she  trusted  was  in  the  habit  of  visit- 


THE   STORE   BOY  85 

Sng  gambling  houses.  The  plan  had  been  suggested  by  Con- 
rad, and  the  details  agreed  upon  by  him  and  his  mother. 
This  explains  why  Conrad  was  so  conveniently  near  at  hand 
to  see  Ben  coming  out  of  the  gambling  house. 

The  boy  reported  the  success  of  this  plan  to  his  mother. 

"  I  never  saw  a  boy  look  so  puzzled,"  he  said,  with  a 
chuckle,  "  when  he  came  out  of  the  gambling  house.  I 
should  like  to  know  what  sort  of  a  time  he  had  there.  I  ex- 
pected he  would  get  kicked  out." 

"  I  fee]  no  interest  in  that  matter,"  said  his  mother.  "  I 
am  more  interested  to  know  what  Cousin  Hamilton  will  say 
when  she  finds  where  her  model  boy  has  been." 

"  She'll  give  him  his  walking  ticket,  I  hope." 

"She  ought  to;  but  she  seems  so  infatuated  with  him  that 
there  is  no  telling." 

"  When  shall  you  tell  her,  mother?  " 

"  I  will  wait  a  day  or  two.  I  want  to  manage  matters  so 
as  not  to  arouse  any  suspicion." 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

BEN   ON  TRIAL 

"Excuse  my  intrusion,  Cousin  Hamilton;  I  see  you  are 
engaged." 

The  speaker  was  Mrs.  Hill,  and  the  person  addressed  was 
her  wealthy  cousin.  It  was  two  days  after  the  event  re- 
corded in  the  last  chapter. 

"  I  am  only  writing  a  note,  about  which  there  is  no  haste. 
Did  you  wish  to  speak  to  me?" 

Mrs.  Hamilton  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  waited  to 
hear  what  Mrs.  Hill  had  to  say.  There  was  very  little  sim- 
ilarity between  the  two  ladies.  One  was  stout,  with  a  pleas- 
ant, benevolent  face,  to  whom  not  only  children,  but  older 
people,  were  irresistibly  attracted.  The  other  was  thin,  with 
cold,  gray  eyes,  a  pursed-up  mouth,  thin  lips,  who  had  never 
succeeded  in  winning  the  affection  of  any  one.  True,  she 
had  married,  but  her  husband  was  attracted  by  a  small  sum 
of  money  which  she  possessed,  and  which  had  been  reported 
to  him  as  much  larger  than  it  really  was. 

When  asked  if  she  wished  to  speak,  Mrs.  Hill  coughed. 

"  There's  a  matter  I  think  I  ought  to  speak  of,"  she  said, 
"  but  it  is  painful  for  me  to  do  so." 

"Why  is  it  painful?"  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton,  eying  her 
steadily. 

"  Because  my  motives  may  be  misconstrued.  Then,  I  fear 
it  will  give  you  pain." 


86 


THE    STORE   BOY 


is    sometimes    salutary. 


Has    Conrad    displeased 
My 


"  Pain 

you?" 

"No,  indeed!"  answered  Mrs.  Hill,  half  indignantly, 
boy  is  a  great  comfort  to  me." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  dryly. 

For  her  own  part,  Mrs.  Hamilton  thought  her  cousin's 
son  one  of  the  least  attractive  young  people  she  had  ever 
met,  and  save  for  a  feeling  of  pity,  and  the  slight  claims  of 
relationship,  would  not  have  been  willing  to  keep  him  in  the 
house. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  have  judged  so  ill  of  my  poor 
Conrad,"  complained  Mrs.  Hill. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  so  well  pleased  with  him.  Let  me 
know  what  you  have  to  comm.unicate." 

"It  is  something  about  the  new  boy — Benjamin." 

Mrs.  Hamilton  lifted  her  eyebrows  slightly. 

"  Speak  without  hesitation,"  she  said. 

"You  will  be  sure  not  to  misjudge  m.e?" 

"Why  should  I?" 

"You  might  think  I  was  jealous  on  account  of  my  own 
boy." 

"There  is  no  occasion  for  you  to  be  jealous," 

"  No,  of  course  not.  I  am  sure  Conrad  and  I  have  abund- 
ant cause  to  be  grateful  to  you." 

"  That  is  not  telling  me  what  you  came  to  tell,"  said  Mrs. 
Hamilton,  impatiently. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  deceived  in  the  boy,  Cousin  Hamil- 
ton." 

"In  what  respect?"  ' 

"  I  am  almost  sorry  I  had  not  kept  the  matter  secret.  If 
I  did  not  consider  it  my  duty  to  you,  I  would  have  done  so." 

"  Be  kind  enough  to  speak  at  once.  You  need  not  apolo- 
gize, nor  hesitate  on  my  account.  What  has  Ben  been 
doing?  " 

"  On  Tuesday  evening  he  was  seen  coming  out  of  a  well- 
known  gambling  house." 

"  Who  saw  him?  " 

"  Conrad." 

"How  did  Conrad  know  that  it  was  a  gambling  house?" 

"  He  had  had  it  pointed  out  to  him  as  such,"  Mrs.  Hill  an- 
swered, with  some  hesitation. 

"About  what  time  was  this?" 

"A  little  after  nine  in  the  evening." 

"And  where  was  the  gambling  house  situated?" 

"  On  Thirty-first  Street." 

A  peculiar  look  came  over  Mrs.  Hamilton's  face. 

"And  Conrad  reported  this  to  you?" 

"  The  same  evening." 

"That  was  Tuesday?" 

"Yes;  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  tell  you  immedi- 
ately, because  I  did  not  want  to  injure  the  boy." 


m 


M 


THE    STORE   BOY 


87 


"You  are  more  considerate  than  I  should  have  expected." 

"  I  hope  I  am.  I  don't  pretend  to  like  the  boy.  He  seems 
to  have  something  sly  and  underhand  about  him.  Still,  he 
needs  to  be  employed,  and  that  made  me  pause." 

"  Till  your  sense '  of  duty  to  me  overcame  your  reluc- 
tance?" 

"  Exactly  so.  Cousin  Hamilton.  I  am  giad  you  understand 
so  well  how  I  feel  about  the  matter." 

Mrs.  Hill  was  quite  incapable  of  understanding  the  irony 
of  her  cousin's  last  remark,  and  was  inclined  to  be  well 
pleased  with  the  reception  her  news  had  met  with. 

"  Where  is  Conrad?  " 

"  He  is  not  in  the  house.    He  didiVt  want  me  to  tell  you." 

"  That  speaks  wel!  for  him.  I  must  speak  to  Ben  on  the 
subject." 

She  rang  the  bell,  and  a  servant  appeared, 

"  See  if  Master  Ben  is  in  his  room,"  said  the  lady.  "  If 
so,  ask  him.  to  come  here  for  five. minutes." 

Ben  was  in  the  house,  and  in  less  than  two  minutes  he 
entered  the  room.  He  glanced  from  one  lady  to  the  other  in 
some  surprise.  Mrs.  Hamilton  wore  her  ordinary  manner, 
but  Mrs.  Hill's  mcuth  vras  more  pursed  up  than  ever.  ,  She 
looked  straight  before  her,  and  did  not  look  at  Ben  at  all. 

"  Ben,"  said  JMrs.  Hamilton,  coming  to  the  point  at  once, 
"  did  you  visit  a  gambling  house  in  Thirty-first  Street  on 
Tuesday  evening?  " 

"  I  did,"  answered  Ben,  promptly. 

Mrs.  Hill  moved  her  hands  slightly,  and  looked  horror- 
stricken. 

"  You  must  have  had  some  good  reason  for  doing  so.  I 
take  it  for  granted  you  did  not  go  there  to  gamble?" 

"  No,"  answered  Ben,  with  a  smile.  "  That  is  not  in  ray 
line." 

"  What  other  purpose  could  he  have  had,  Cousin  Hamil- 
ton?" put  in  Mrs.  Hill,  maliciously. 

Ben  eyed  her  curiously. 

"Did  Mrs.  Hill  tell  you  I  went  there?"  he  asked. 

"  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  do  so,"  said  that  lady,  with  acerbity. 
"  I  dislike  to  see  my  cousin  so  deceived  and  imposed  upon 
by  one  she  had  befriended." 

"How  did  you  know  I  went  there,  Mrs.  Hill?" 

"Conrod  saw  you  coming  out  of  the  gambling  house." 

"I  didn't  see  him.  It  was  curious  he  happened  to  be  in 
that  neigliborhood  just  at  that  time,"  said  Ben,  significantly. 

"'If  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  Conrad  goes  to  such  places, 
you  are  quite  mistaken,"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  sharply. 

"  It  was  not  that  I  meant  to  insinuate  at  all." 

"You  have  not  yet  told  me  why  you  went  there,  Ben?" 
said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  mildly. 

"  Because  I  received  a  mysterious  letter,  signed  James 
Barnes,  asking  me  to  come  to  that  address  about  nine  o'clock 

6  TT 


88  THE   STORE   BOY 

in  the  evening.  T  was  told  I  would  hear  something  of  ad- 
vantage to  myself." 

"Did  you  meet  any  such  man  there?"  asked  Mrs.  Hill. 

"  No." 

"  Have  you  got  the  letter  you  speak  of?  "  asked  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton. 

"  No,"  answered  Ben.  "  I  must  have  dropped  it  somewhere. 
I  felt  in  my  pocket  for  it  when  I  reached  the  gambling 
house,  but  it  was  gone." 

Mrs.  Hill  looked  fairly  triumphant. 

"A  very  queer  story!"  she  said,  nodding  her  head.  "I 
don't  believe  you  received  any  such  letter.  I  presume  you 
had  often  been  to  the  same  place,  to  misspend  your  even- 
ings." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Mrs.  Hamilton? "  inquired  Ben,  anx- 
iously. 

"  It  is  a  pity  you  lost  that  letter,  Ben." 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  answered  Ben,  regretfully. 

"  Mrs.  Hill,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  "  if  you  will  withdraw, 
I  would  like  to  say  a  few  words  to  Ben  in  private." 

"  Certainly,  Cousin  Hamilton,"  returned  the  poor  cousin, 
with  alacrity.  "  I  think  his  race  is  about  run,"  she  said  to 
herself  in  a  tone  of  congratulation. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

CONRAD  TAKES  A  BOLD  STEP  M 

"  I  HOPE,  Mrs.  Hamilton,  you  don't  suspect  me  of  frequent-  | 
ing  gambling  houses?"  said  Ben,  after  his  enemy  had  left  J 
the  room.  # 

"  No,**  answered  Mrs.  Hamilton,  promptly.  "  I  think  I  4:^ 
know  you  too  well  for  that."  V.l 

"  I  did  go  on  Tuesday  evening,  I  admit,"  continued  Ben.  '■  i" 
"  I  saw  that  Mrs.  Hill  did  not  believe  it,  but  it  is  true.  I  -■ 
wish  I  hadn't  lost  the  letter  inviting  me  there.  You  might  i 
think  I  had  invented  the  story."  Ml 

"  But  I  don't,  Ben;  and,  for  the  best  of  all  reasons,  be-  pij 
cause  I  found  the  note  on  the  carpet,  and  have  it  in  my  pos-  '^ "i 
session  now."  .. f 

"Have  you?"  exclaimed  Ben,  gladly.  'J 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  the  lady,  as  she  produced  the  note  from  .  i 
the  desk  before  her.  "  It  is  singular  such  a  note  should  have  .  |^ 
been  sent  you,"  she  added,  thoughtfully.  .  q 

"  I  think  so,  too.  I  had  no  suspicion  when  I  received  it.  f 
but  I  think  now  that  it  was  written  to  get  me  into  a  scrape.       s= 

"  Then  it  must  have  been  written  by  an  enemy.  Do  you  i 
know  of  any  one  who  would  feel  like  doing  you  a  bad  turn?  "  ^ ,] 


THE   STORE  BOY  89] 

"No,"  answered  Ben,  shaking  his  head. 

"Do  you  recognize  the  handwriting?"  i 

"  No;  it  may  have  been  written  by  some  person  I  know,  buii  '■. 
I  have  no  suspicion  and  no  clew."  ! 

"  I  think  we  will  let  the  matter  rest  for  a  short  time.    If 
we  say  nothing  about  it,  the  guilty  person  may  betray  him-  : 
self." 

"You  are  very  kind  to  keep  your  confidence  in  me,  Mrs. 
Hamilton,"  said  Ben,  gratefully. 

"  I  trust  you  as  much  as  ever,  Ben,  but  I  shall  appear  not 
to — for  a  time." 

Ben  looked  puzzled. 

"  I  won't  explain  myself,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  with  a  smile, 
"but  I  intend  to  treat  you  coolly  for  a  time,  as  if  you  had 
incurred  my  displeasure.  You  need  not  feel  sensitive,  how- 
ever, but  may  consider  that  I  am  acting." 

"Then  it  may  be  as  well  for  me  to  act,  too,"  suggested 
Ben. 

"A  good  suggestion!  You  will  do  well  to  look  sober,  andl 
uneasy," 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  answered  Ben,  brightly. 

The  programme  was  carried  out.  To  the  great  delight  of 
Mrs.  Hill  and  Conrad,  Mrs.  Hamilton  scarcely  addressed  ai 
word  to  Ben  at  the  supper  table.  When  she  did  speak,  it 
was  with  an  abruptness  and  coldness  quite  unusual  for  th© 
warm-hearted  woman.  Ben  looked  depressed,  fixed  his  eyes 
on  his  plate,  and  took  very  little  part  in  the  conversation. 
Mrs.  Hill  and  Conrad,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  in  very 
good  spirits.  They  chatted  cheerfully,  and  addressed  an  oc- 
casional word  to  Ben.  They  could  afford  to  be  magnani- 
mous, feeling  that  he  had  forfeited  their  rich  cousin's  favor. 

After  supper,  Conrad  went  into  his  mother's  room. 

"  Our  plan's  working  well,  mother,"  he  said,  rubbing  his 
hands. 

"  Yes,  Conrad,  it  is.  Cousin  Hamilton  is  very  angry  with! 
the  boy.    She  scarcely  spoke  a  word  to  him." 

"  He  won't  stay  long,  I'll  be  bound.  Can't  you  suggest, 
mother,  that  he  had  better  be  dismissed  at  once?" 

"  No,  Conrad;  we  have  done  all  that  is  needed.  We  can 
trust  Cousin  Hamilton  to  deal  with  him.  She  will  probably 
keep  him  for  a  short  time,  till  she  can  get  along  without  his 
services." 

"  It's  lucky  he  lost  the  letter.  Cousin  Hamilton  will  think 
he  never  received  any." 

So  the  precious  pair  conferred  together.  It  was  clear  fliat 
Ben  had  two  dangerous  and  unscrupulous  enemies  in  the 
house. 

It  was  all  very  well  to  anticipate  revenge  upon  Ben,  and 
his  summary  dismissal,  but  this  did  not  relieve  Conrad  from 
his  pecuniary  embarrassments.  As  a  general  thing,  his 
weekly  allowance  was  spent  by  the  middle  of  the  week.    Ben 


90  THE    STORE   BOY 

had  refused  to  lend  money,  and  there  was  no  one  else  he 
could  call  upon.  Even  if  our  hero  was  dismissed,  there 
seemed  likely  to  be  no  improvement  in  this  respect. 

At  this  juncture,  Conrad  was,  unfortunately,  subjected  to 
a  temptation  which  proved  too  strong  for  him. 

Mrs.  Hamilton  was  the  possessor  of  an  elegant  opera  glass, 
which  she  had  bought  some  years  previous  in  Paris  at  a 
cost  of  fifty  dollars.  Generally,  when  not  in  use,  she  kept  it 
locked  up  in  a  bureau  drawer.  It  so  happened,  however, 
that  it  had  been  left  out  on  a  return  from  a  matinee,  and 
lay  upon  her  desk,  where  it  attracted  the  attention  of  Con- 
rad. 

It  was  an  unlucky  moment,  for  he  felt  very  hard  up.  He 
wished  to  go  to  the  theatre  in  the  evening  with  a  friend,  but 
had  no  money. 

It  flashed  upon  him  that  he  could  raise  a  considerable  sum 
on  the  opera  glass  at  Simpson's,  a  well-known  pawnbroker 
on  the  Bowery,  and  he  could,  without  much  loss  of  time, 
stop  there  on  his  way  down  to  business. 

Scarcely  giving  himself  time  to  think,  he  seized  the  glass 
and  thrust  it  into  the  pocket  of  his  overcoat.  Then,  putting 
on  his  coat,  he  hurried  from  the  house. 

Arrived  at  the  pawnbroker's,  he  produced  the  glass,  and 
asked : 

"How  much  will  you  give  me  on  this?" 

The  attendant  looked  at  the  glass,  and  then  at  Conrad. 

"This  is  a  very  valuable  glass,"  he  said.     "Is  it  yours?" 

"  No,"  answered  Conrad,  glibly.  "  It  belongs  to  a  lady  in 
reduced  circumstances,  who  needs  to  raise  money.  She  will 
probably  be  able  to  redeem  it  soon." 

"  Did  she  send  you  here?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  We  will  loan  you  twenty  dollars  on  it.  Will  that  be  sat- 
isfactory?" 

"  Quite  so,"  answered  Conrad,  quite  elated  at  the  sum, 
which  exceeded  his  anticipations. 

"  Shall  we  make  out  the  ticket  to  you  or  the  lady?  " 

"  To  me.  The  lady  does  not  like  to  have  her  name  appear 
in  the  matter." 

This  is  so  frequently  the  case  that  the  statement  created 
no  surprise. 

"What  is  your  name?"  inquired  the  attendant. 

"Ben  Barclay,"  answered  Conrad,  readily. 

The  ticket  was  made  out,  the  money  paid  over,  and  Con- 
rad left  the  establishment. 

"  Now  I  am  in  funds ! "  he  said  to  himself,  "  and  there  is 
no  danger  of  detection.  If  anything  is  ever  found  out,  it 
will  be  Ben  who  will  be  in  trouble,  not  I." 

It  was  not  long  before  Mrs.  Hamilton  discovered  her  loss. 
She  valued  the  missing  opera  glass,  for  reasons  which  need 
not  be  mentioned,  far  beyond  its  intrinsic  value,  and  though 


THE   STORE   BOY  91 

she  could  readily  have  supplied  its  place,  so  far  as  money- 
was  concerned,  she  would  not  have  been  as  well  pleased 
with  any  new  glass,  though  precisely  similar,  as  with  the 
one  she  had  used  for  years.  She  remembered  that  she  had 
not  replaced  the  glass  in  the  drawer,  and,  therefore,  searched 
for  it  wherever  she  thought  it  likely  to  have  been  left.  But 
in  vain. 

"  Ben,"  she  said,  "  have  you  seen  my  glass  anywhere 
about? " 

"  I  think,"  answered  Ben,  "  that  I  saw  it  on  your  desk." 

"It  is  not  there  now,  but  it  must  be  somewhere  in  the 
house." 

She  next  asked  Mrs.  Hill.  The  housekeeper  was  entirely 
ignorant  of  Conrad's  theft,  and  answered  that  she  had  not 
seen  it. 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  left  it  about,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton. 
"  It  may  have  proved  too  strong  a  temptation  to  some  one 
of  the  servants." 

"  Or  some  one  else,"  suggested  Mrs.  Hill,  significantly. 

"  That  means  Ben,"  thought  Mrs.  Hamilton,  but  she  did 
not  say  so. 

"  I  would  ferret  out  the  matter  if  I  were  you,"  continued 
Mrs.  Hill. 

"  I  intend  to,"  answered  Mrs.  Hamilton,  quietly.  "  I  valued 
the  glass  far  beyond  its  cost,  and  I  will  leave  no  means  un- 
tried to  recover  it." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  too." 

When  Conrad  was  told  that  the  opera  glass  had  been  lost, 
he  said : 

"Probably  Ben  stole  it." 

"So  I  think,"  assented  his  mother.  "But  it  will  be  found 
out.  Cousin  Hamilton  has  put  the  matter  into  the  hands  of 
a  detective." 

For  the  moment,  Conrad  felt  disturbed.  But  he  quickly 
recovered  himself. 

"  Pshaw  r  they  can't  trace  it  to  me,"  he  thought.  "  They 
will  put  it  on  Ben." 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

MR.   LYNX,   THE   DETECTIVE 

The  detective  who  presented  himself  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  was 
a  quiet-looking  man,  clad  in  a  brown  suit.  Except  that  his 
eyes  were  keen  and  searching,  his  appearance  was  disap- 
pointing. Conrad  met  him  as  he  was  going  out  of  the  house, 
and  said  to  himself,  contemptuously :  "  He  looks  like  a  muff." 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  Mr,  Lynx,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  "  to 
see  if  you  can  help  me  in  a  matter  I  will  explain  to  you," 


92  THE    STORE   BOY 

and  then  she  gave  him  all  the  information  she  possessed 
about  the  loss  of  the  opera  glass. 

"How  valuable  was  the  glass?"  inquired  Mr.  Lynx. 

"  It  cost  fifty  dollars  in  Paris,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

"  But  you  set  a  higher  value  upon  it  for  other  reasons? 
Just  so." 

"  You  are  right." 

"  Will  you  favor  me  with  an  exact  description  of  the  ar- 
ticle?" said  the  detective,  producing  his .  notebook. 

Mrs.  Hamilton  did  so,  and  the  detective  made  an  entry. 

"  Have  you  ever  had  anything  taken  out  of  your  house  by 
outside  parties?"  he  asked. 

"  On  one  occasion,  when  my  brother  was  visiting  me,  his 
overcoat  was  taken  from  the  hatstand  in  the  hall." 

"  A  sneak  thief,  of  course.  The  glass,  however,  was  not 
so  exposed." 

"  No;  it  was  not  on  the  lower  floor  at  all." 

"  It  looks,  then,  as  if  it  was  taken  by  some  one  in  the 
house." 

"  It  looks  so,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  gravely. 

"Have  you  confidence  in  your  servants?  Or,  rather  have 
you  reason  to  suspect  any  of  them?" 

"  I  believe  they  are  honest.  I  don't  believe  they  would  be 
tempted  by  such  an  article." 

"  Not,  perhaps,  for  their  own  use,  but  a  glass  like  this  may 
loe  pawned  for  a  considerable  sum.  Being  of  peculiar  ap- 
pearance, the  thief  would  be  hardly  likely  to  use  it  himself 
or  herself.     Detection  would  be  too  sure." 

"  No  doubt  you  are  right." 

"  How  long  has  the  glass  been  missing?"  resumed  the  de- 
tective. 

"  Three  days." 

"  No  doubt  it  has  been  pawned  by  this  time.  Your  course 
is  clear." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  To  make  a  tour  of  the  pawnshops,  and  ascertain  whether 
such  an  article  has  been  brought  to  any  one  of  them." 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Lynx.  I  leave  the  matter  in  your  hands. 
I  trust  everything  to  your  judgment." 

"  Thank  you.  I  will  try  to  deserve  your  confidence.  And 
now,  good-day.     I  may  call  upon  you  to-morrow," 

Mr.  Lynx  left  the  presence  of  the  lady,  and  went  down- 
stairs. He  had  just  reached  the  bottom  of  the  staircase, 
when  a  thin  lady  glided  from  the  rear  of  the  hall,  and  spoke 
to   him. 

"  Are  you  the  detective  summoned  by  Mrs.  Hamilton?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,  madam,"  answered  Mr.  Lynx,  surveying  the  house- 
teeper  attentively. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Hill,  the  housekeeper,"  said  she.  "  I  may  add 
that  I  am  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Hamilton's." 


THE    STORE    BOY  93 

Mr.  Lynx  bowed,  and  waited  for  further  information.  He 
knew  who  was  addressing  him,  for  he  had  questioned  Mrs. 
Hamilton  as  to  the  different  inmates  of  the  house. 

"  I  stopped  you,"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  "  because  I  have  my  sus- 
picions, and  I  thought  I  might  help  you  in  this  investiga-i 
tion." 

"  I  shall  feel  indebted  to  you  for  any  help  you  can  afford. 
Do  you  mind  telling  me  upon  what  your  suspicions  rest?  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  accuse  or  throw  suspicions  on  any  one," 
said  the  housekeeper,  "  but  I  think  it  is  my  duty  to  help  my 
cousin  in  this  matter." 

"Undoubtedly,"  said  Mr.  Lynx,  noticing  that  she  paused. 
"  Proceed." 

"  You  may  or  may  not  be  aware  that  my  cousin  employs 
a  boy  of  about  sixteen,  whom,  as  I  think,  she  engaged  rather 
rashly,  without  knowing  anything  of  his  antecedents.  He 
assists  her  in  her  writing  and  accounts." 

"His  name  is  Benjamin  Barclay,  is  it  not?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  his  habits?  " 

"  He  is  very  plausible.  In  fact,  I  think  his  appearance  is 
in  his  favor;  but  I  think  he  is  sly.  Still  water,  you  know, 
runs  deep." 

Mr.  Lynx  bowed  assent. 

"  I  was  disposed,"  proceeded  Mrs.  Hill,  artfully,  "  to  think 
well  of  the  boy,  and  to  approve  my  cousin's  selection,  until 
last  week  he  was  seen  leaving  a  well-known  gambling  house 
in  Thirty-first  Street." 

"Indeed!    That  is  certainly  suspicious." 

"Is  it  not?" 

"Who  saw  him  leave  the  gambling  house,  Mrs.  Hill?" 

"  My  son,  Conrad." 

"  Curious  that  he  should  have  been  near  at  the  time." 

"  He  was  taking  a  walk.  He  generally  goes  out  in  the 
evening." 

"Of  course  your  son  would  not  visit  such  a  place?" 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  Mrs.  Hill,  looking  offended  at 
the  suggestion. 

"By  the  way,  are  the  twc  boys  intimate?  Do  they  seem 
to  like  each  other?" 

"  My  Conrad  always  treats  the  other  boy  well,  out  of  com- 
mon politeness,  but  I  don't  think  he  likes  him  very  well." 

"  Is  your  son  in  any  situation? " 

"  He  is  now." 

"Was  he  at  the  time  this  Benjamin  was  engaged  by  Mrs. 
Hamilton?  " 

"  No." 

"  Rather  singular  that  she  did  not  employ  your  son,  instead 
of  seeking  out  a  stranger,  isn't  it?" 

"Now  that  you  mention  it,  I  confess  that  I  did  feel  hurt 


94  THE    STORE   BOY 

at  the  slight  to  my  boy.  However,  I  don't  wish  to  interfere 
with  Cousin  Hamilton,  or  obtrude  my  son  upon  her." 

"Strong  jealousy  there!"  thought  the  detective. 

"  So  you  think  this  Ben  Barclay  may  have  taken  the 
glass?"  he  said,  inquiringly. 

"  I  do.  Since  he  visits  gambling  houses,  he  doubtless 
squanders  money,  and  can  fmd  a  market  for  more  than  he 
can  honestly  earn." 

"As  you  say,  gambling  often  leads  to  dishonesty.  Does 
Mrs.  Hamilton  know  that  her  protege  visited  a  gambling 
house?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Mentioned  it  to  him,  I  suppose?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Of  course,  he  denied  it?  " 

"No;  he  admitted  it,  but  said  he  received  a  letter  from 
a  stranger  appointing  to  meet  him  there.  It  is  rather  cu- 
rious that  he  couldn't  show  the  letter,  however.  He  pre- 
tended he  had  lost  it." 

"Did  Mrs.  Hamilton  believe  him?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  think  not,  for,  though  she  has  not  dis- 
charged him,  she  treats  him  very  coldly." 

"Have  you  any  further  information  to  give  me?" 

"  No.     I  hope  this  will  be  of  some  service  to  you." 

"  I  think   it  will.     Thank  you,    and   good-afternoon." 

"There!  I  have  prejudiced  him  against  Ben,"  said  Mrs. 
Hill  to  herself,  with  a  satisfied  smile.  "  These  detectives 
are  glad  of  a  hint,  sharp  as  they  think  themselves.  If  he 
finds  out  that  it  is  Ben,  he  will  take  all  the  credit  to  him- 
self, and  never  mention  me  in  the  matter.  However,  that 
is  just  what  I  wish.  It  is  important  that  I  should  not  appear 
too  active  in  getting  the  boy  into  trouble,  or  I  may  be 
thought  to  be  influenced  by  interested  motives,  though, 
Heaven  knows,  I  only  want  justice  for  myself  and  my  boy. 
The  sooner  we  get  this  boy  out  of  the  house,  the  better  it 
will  be  for  us." 

As  Mr.  Lynx  left  the  house,  he  smiled  to  himself. 

"  That  woman  and  her  son  hate  Ben  Barclay,  that  much  is 
certain,  and  look  upon  him  as  an  interloper  and  a  rival. 
I  rather  sympathize  with  the  poor  fellow.  I  should  be  sorry 
to  fmd  him  guilty,  but  I  shall  not  stop  short  till  I  have  fer- 
reted out  the  truth." 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

THE   TELLTALE   TICKET 

Conrad  still  had  the  pawnbroker's  ticket  which  he  had  re- 
ceived in  return  for  the  opera  glass,  and  did  hot  quite  know 


THE    STORE   BOY  95 

what  to  do  with  it.  He  didn't  intend  to  redeem  the  glass, 
and  if  found  in  his  possession,  it  would  bring  him  under 
suspicion.  Now  that  a  detective  had  the  matter  in  charge,  it 
occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be  well  to  have  the  ticket 
found  in  Ben's  room. 

.  The  two  had  rooms  upon  the  same  floor,  and  it  would, 
therefore,  be  easy  to  slip  into  Ben's  chamber  and  leave  it 
somewhere  about. 

Now,  it  chanced  that  Susan,  the  chambermaid,  was  about, 
though  Conrad  did  not  see  her,  when  he  carried  out  his  pur- 
pose, and,  instigated  by  curiosity,  she  peeped  through  the 
half-open  door,  and  saw  him  place  the  ticket  on  the  bureau. 

Wondering  what  it  was,  she  entered  the  room  after  Con- 
rad had  vacated  it,  and  found  the  ticket  Conrad  had  placed 
there. 

Susan  knew  what  a  pawnbroker's  ticket  was,  and  read  it 
with  curiosity. 

She  saw  that  it  was  made  out  to  Ben  Barclay. 

"  How,  then,  did  Master  Conrad  get  hold  of  it?  "  she  said 
to  herself.  "  It's  my  belief  he's  trying '  to  get  Master  Ben 
into  trouble.  It's  a  shame,  it  is,  for  Master  Ben  is  a  gentle- 
man and  he  isn't." 

Between  the  two  boys,  Susan  favored  Ben,  who  always 
treated  her  with  consideration,  while  Conrad  liked  to  order 
about  the  servants,  as  if  they  were  made  to  wait  upon  him. 

After  Conrad  had  disposed  of  the  pawn  ticket,  he  said, 
carelessly,  to  his  mother: 

"Mother,  if  I  were  you,  I'd  look  into  Ben's  room.  You 
might  And  the  opera  glass  there." 

"  I  don't  think  he'd  leave  it  there.     He  would  pawn  it" 

"Then  you  might  find  the  ticket  somewhere  about." 

Upon  this  hint,  Mrs.  Hill  went  up  to  Ben's  room,  and  there, 
upon  the  bureau,  she  naturally  found  the  ticket. 

"'I  thought  so,"  she  said  to  herself.  "Conrad  was  righL 
The  boy  is  a  thief.  Here  is  the  ticket  made  out  to  him  by 
name.  Well,  well,  he's  brazen  enough,  in  all  conscience! 
Now,  shall  I  show  it  to  Cousin  Hamilton  at  once,  or  shall  I 
wait  until  the  detective  has  reported?  " 

On  the  whole,  Mrs.  Hill  decided  to  wait.  She  could  delay 
•with  safety,  for  she  had  proof  which  would  utterly  crush 
and  confound  the  hated  interloper. 

Meanwhile,  the  detective  pursued  his  investigations.  Of 
course,  he  visited  Simpson's,  and  there  he  learned  that  the 
opera  glass,  which  he  readily  recognized  from  the  descrip- 
tion, had  been  brought  there  a  few  days  previous. 

"■Who  brought  it?"  he  asked. 

"■A  boy  of  about  sixteen." 

""Did  he  give  his  name?" 

The  books  were  referred  to,  and  the  attendant  answered 
in  the  affirmative. 

"  He  gave  the  name  of  Ben  Barclay,"  he  answered. 


96  THE   STORE   BOY 

"Do  you  think  that  was  his  real  name?"  asked  the  de-» 

tective. 

"  That  depends  on  whether  he  had  a  right  to  pawn  it." 

"  Suppose  he  stole  it?  " 

"  Then,  probably,  he  did  not  give  his  real  name." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Lynx,  quietly. 

"Do  you  know  if  there  is  a  boy  by  that  name?" 

"  There  is;  but  I  doubt  if  he  knows  anything  about  the 
matter." 

"  I  will  call  again,  perhaps  to-morrow,"  he  added.  "  I 
must  report  to  my  principal  what  I  have  discovered." 

From  Simpson's  he  went  straight  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  who 
had  as  yet  received  no  communication  from  the  house- 
keeper. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Lynx,"  she  asked,  with  interest,  "  have  you 
heard  anything  of  the  glass?" 

"  I  have  seen  it,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"Where?" 

"At  a  well-known  pawnshop  on  the  Bowery." 

"  Did  you  learn  who  left  it?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton,  eagerly. 

"  A  boy — about  sixteen  years  of  age — who  gave  the  name 
of  Ben  Barclay!" 

"  I  can't  believe  Ben  would  be  guilty  of  such  a  disgraceful 
act!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Hamilton,  deeply  moved. 


CHAPTER   XXVill 

MRS.    hill's   malice 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  low  knock  on  the  door. 

"Come  in!"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

Mrs.  Hill,  the  housekeeper,  glided  in,  with  her  usual 
stealthy  step. 

"  I  really  beg  pardon  for  intruding,"  she  said,  with  a 
slight  cough,  "  but  I  thought  perhaps  I  might  throw  light 
on  the  matter  Mr.  Lynx  is  investigating." 

"Well?"  said  the  detective,  eying  her  attentively. 

"  I  had  occasion  to  go  into  Ben's  room  to  see  if  the  girl 
had  put  things  in  order,  when  my  attention  was  drawn  to 
a  ticket  upon  the  bureau.  You  can  tell  whether  it  is  of 
importance,"  and  she  handed  it,  with  an  air  of  deference, 
to  Mr.  Lynx. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

"  It  is  a  pawnticket,"  answered  Mr.  Lynx,  attentively. 

"Let  me  see  it,  please!" 

Mrs.  Hamilton  regarded  it  with  mingled  pain  and  incre- 
dulity. 

"  I  need  not  say,"  continued  the  housekeeper,  "  that  I  was 


THE   STORE   BOY  97 

surprised  and  saddened  at  this  evidence  of  the  boy's  de- 
pravity. Cousin  Hamilton  has  been  so  kind  to  him  that  it 
seems  like  the  height  of  ingratitude," 

"  May  I  ask,  madam,"  said  Mr.  Lynx,  "  if  your  suspicions 
had  fastened  on  this  boy,  Ben,  before  you  found  the  pawn 
ticket?" 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  they  had." 

"And  what  reason  had  you  for  forming  such  suspicions?" 

"I  knew  that  the  boy  frequented  gambling  houses,  and, 
of  course,  no  salary,  however  large,  would  be  sufficient  for 
a  boy  with  such  habits." 

Mrs.  Hamilton  did  not  speak,  which  somewhat  embarrassed 
Mrs.  Hill.  Mr.  Lynx,  however,  was  very  affable,  and  thanked 
her  for  her  assistance. 

"  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  assist  Cousin  Hamilton,"  said  she, 
*'  though  I  am  sorry  for  that  ungrateful  boy.  I  will  now 
withdraw,  and  leave  you  to  confer  together." 

Mrs.  Hill  would  like  to  have  been  invited  to  remain,  but 
such  an  invitation  was  not  given. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Lynx?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

"I  think  your  housekeeper  does  not  like  Ben  Barclay," 
he  answered,  dryly. 

"  And  you  don't  think  him  guilty?  "  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"  No;  the  boy  isn't  fool  enough,  first,  to  give  his  own  name 
at  the  pawnbroker's,  and  next,  to  leave  the  ticket  exposed 
in  his  room." 

"  How  then  did  it  come  there?" 

Mr.  Lynx  was  saved  the  trouble  of  answering  by  another 
tap  on  the  door.  / 

"  Who  is  it  now?  "  he  said. 

He  stepped  to  the  door,  and  opening  it,  admitted  Susan, 

"What  is  it,  Susan,"  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton,  in  some  sur- 
prise. 

"Did  Mrs.  Hill  bring  you  a  pawn  ticket,  ma'am?" 

"  And  what  do  you  know  about  it?  "  demanded  Mr.  Lynx, 
brusquely. 

"  And  did  she  say  she  found  it  on  Master  Ben's  bureau?  " 

"Yes,  Susan,"  said  the  mistress;  "what  can  you  tell  us 
about  it?  " 

"  I  can  tell  you  this,  ma'am,  that  I  saw  Master  Conrad  steal 
into  the  room  this  morning,  and  put  it  there  with  his  own 
hands." 

"  Ha!  this  is  something  to  the  purpose,"  said  the  detective, 
briskly. 

"  Are  you  sure  of  this,  Susan?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton,  evi- 
dently shocked. 

"  I  can  take  my  Bible  oath  of  it,  ma'am;  and  it's  my  belief 
that  he's  tryin'  to  get  Master  Ben  into  trouble." 

"  Thank  you,  Susan,"  said  her  mistress.  "  You  have  done 
not  only  Ben,  but  myself,  a  valuable  service.  You  can  go. 
I  will  see  that  you  do  not  regret  it." 


98  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  Don't  tell  Mrs.  Hill  that  I  told  you,  or  she'd  be  my  enemy 
for  life!" 

"  I  will  see  to  that." 

As  Susan  left  the  room,  Mr.  Lynx  said: 

"You  won't  require  my  services  any  longer.  It  is  clear 
enough  who  pawned  the  glass." 

"  You  mean " 

"  I  mean  the  boy,  Conrad,  whose  mother  was  so  anxious 
to  fix  the  guilt  upon  your  young  secretary.  If  you  have  the 
slightest  doubt  about  it,  invite  the  young  gentleman  to  ac- 
company you  to  Simpson's  to  redeem  the  opera  glass." 

"  I  will." 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

SOME  UNEXPECTED   CHANGES 

When  Conrad  came  home  his  first  visit  was  to  his  mother. 

"  Has  anything  been  found  out  about  the  stolen  opera 
glass?"  he  asked,  with  a  studied  air  of  indifference. 

"  I  should  say  there  had,"  she  answered.  "  I  followed  the 
clew  you  suggested,  and  searched  the  boy's  room.  On  the 
bureau  I  found  the  pawn  ticket." 

"You  don't  say  so!  What  a  muff  Ben  must  have  been  to 
leave  it  around  so  carelessly!    What  did  you  do  with  it?" 

"  I  waited  till  Mr.  Lynx  was  conferring  with  Cousin  Ham- 
ilton, and  then  I  carried  it  in  and  gave  it  to  them." 

"What  did  they  say?"  asked  Conrad,  eagerly. 

"  They  seemed  thunderstruck,  and  Mr.  Lynx  very  politeJy 
thanked  me  for  the  help  I  had  given  them." 

"  Has  Ben  been  bounced  yet?  " 

"No;  but  doubtless  he  will  be  very  soon.  Cousin  HamiK- 
ton  doesn't  want  to  think  him  a  thief  and  gambler,  but  there 
seems  no  way  of  escaping  from  such  a  mass  of  proof.'" 

"  I  should  say  not.  Do  you  think  she's  told  Ben?  Does  he 
look  do\\m  in  the  mouth?"  continued  Conrad. 

"  I  haven't  seen  him  since." 

When  they  met  at  the  table  Mrs.  Hamilton's  manner 
toward  Ben  was  decidedly  frigid,  as  Conrad  and  his  mother 
saw,  much  to  their  satisfaction.  Ben  looked  sober,  but  his 
appetite  did  not  appear  to  be  affected. 

"Your  course  is  about  run,  young  man!"  thought  Mrs. 
Hill. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  after  supper,  Conrad,"  said  Mis. 
Hamilton.     "  Come  into  my  sitting-room." 

"  I  wonder  if  she  is  going  to  give  me  Ben's  place,"  thought 
Conrad,  hardly  knowing  whether  he  wished  it  or  not. 


THE    STORE    BOY  99 

With  a  jaunty  air  and  a  self-satisfied  smile,  he  followed 
Mrs.  Hamilton  into  her  "  private  office,"  as  she  sometimes 
called  it.  ■  x 

"  Shut  the  door,  Conrad,"  she  said. 

He  did  so. 

"  I  have  heard  news  of  the  opera  glass,"  she  commenced. 

"  Mother  gave  me  a  hint  of  that,"  said  Conrad. 

"  It  was  stolen  and  pawned  at  Simpson's  on  the  Bowery." 

"It's  a  gi^eat  shame!"  said  Conrad,  thinking  that  a  safe 
comment  to  make. 

"  Yes,  it  was  a  shame  and  a  disgrace  to  the  one  who  took 
it." 

"  I  didn't  think  Ben  would  do  such  a  thing,"  continued 
Conrad,  growing  bolder. 

"  Nor  L"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

"  After  all  you've  done  for  him,  too.  I  never  liked  the  boy, 
for  my  part." 

"  So  I  suspected,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  dryly.  "  However, 
I  will  tell  you  what  I  want  of  you,  I  am  going  down  to 
Simpson's  to-morrow  to  redeem  the  glass,  and  want  you  to 
go  with  me." 

"You  want  me  to  go  with  you! "  ejaculated  Conrad,  turn- 
ing pale. 

"  Yes ;  I  don't  care  to  go  to  that  part  of  the  city  by  my- 
self, and  I  will  take  you  to  keep  me  company." 

"But  I  must  go  to  the  office,"  faltered  Conrad. 

"  I  will  send  Ben  to  say  that  you  can't  go  to-morrow." 

"  Why  don't  you  take  Ben  to  Simpson's,  or  the  detective?  " 
suggested  Conrad,  in  great  alarm,  bethinking  himself  that  it 
would  hardly  do  to  take  Ben,  since  the  attendant  would 
certify  that  he  was  not  the  one  who  pawned  the  glass. 

"  Because  I  prefer  to  take  you.  Have  you  any  objection  to 
go?" 

"Oh,  no,  of  course  not!"  answered  Conrad,  not  daring  to 
make  any  further  objection. 

In  the  morning  Mrs.  Hill  came  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  and  said : 

"Poor  Conrad  has  a  terrible  toothache!  He  is  afraid  he 
won't  be  able  to  go  with  you  to  Simpson's.  Will  you  kindly 
excuse  him?  " 

Mrs.  Hamilton  expected  some  such  excuse. 

"I  will  take  Ben,  then,"  she  said. 

"Are  you  going  to  keep  that  boy — after  what  he  has 
'done?  "  asked  the  housekeeper. 

"It  is  inconvenient  for  me  to  part  with  him  just  yet." 

"Then — I  hope  you  will  excuse  the  suggestion — I  advise 
you  to  keep  your  bureau  drawers  locked." 

"  I  think  it  best  myself,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton.  "  Is  Conrad's 
toothache  very  bad?" 

"The  poor  fellow  is  in  great  pain." 

When  Ben  was  invited  by  Mrs.  Hamilton  to  go  to  the 
(pawnbroker's  he  made  no  objection. 


100  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  It  is  only  fair  to  tell  you,  Ben,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  "  that 
the  person  who  pawned  the  opera  glass  gave  your  name." 

"Then,"  said  Ben,  "I  should  like  to  know  who  it  is?" 

"I  think  I  know,"  said  his  patroness;  "but  when  we  re- 
deem the  glass  we  will  ask  for  a  description  of  him." 

An  hour  later  they  entered  the  pawnbroker's  shop.  Mrs. 
Hamilton  presented  the  ticket  and  made  herself  known. 

"  Will  you  tell  me,"  she  asked,  "  whether  you  have  ever 
seen  the  young  gentleman  that  accompanies  me?" 

"  Not  to  my  knowledge,"  answered  the  attendant,  after  at- 
tentively regarding  Ben. 

"  Can  you  remember  the  appearance  of  the  boy  who 
pawned  the  opera  glass?" 

"  He  was  taller  than  this  boy,  and  pale.  He  was  thinner 
also.     His  hair  was  a  light  brown." 

A  light  dawned  upon  Ben,  and  his  glance  met  that  of  Mrs. 
Hamilton,  so  that  she  read  his  suspicions. 

"  I  think  we  both  know  who  it  was  that  took  your  name, 
Ben,"  she  said;  "but  for  the  present  I  wish  you  to  keep  it 
secret." 

"  I  will  certainly  do  so,  Mrs.  Hamilton." 

"  I  am  placed  in  difBcult  circumstances,  and  have  not  made 
up  my  mind  what  to  do." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  allow  yourself  to  be  prejudiced  against 
me  by  any  false  stories?" 

"No;  I  can  promise  you  that.  I  have  perfect  confidence 
in  you." 

"  Thank  you  for  that,  Mrs.  Hamilton,"  said  Ben,  grate-i 
fully. 

"  Yet  I  am  about  to  take  a  course  that  will  surprise  you.'* 

"What  is  that?" 

"  I  am  going  to  let  you  leave  me  for  a  time,  and  put  Con-i 
rad  in  your  place." 

Ben  looked  bewildered,  as  well  he  might.  There  was 
nothing  that  would  have  surprised  him  more. 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  you  don't  find  me  satisfactory,"  he  said, 
anxiously. 

"Why  not?" 

"  You  discharge  me  from  your  service." 

"  No,"  answered  Mrs.  Hamilton,  smiling;  "  I  have  other: 
work  for  you  to  do.  I  mean  to  give  you  a  confidential  com- 
mission," 

Ben's  face  brightened  up  immediately. 
.  "  You  will  find  me  faithful,"  he  said,  "  and  I  hope  I  may 
repay  your  confidence." 

"  I  think  you  will,  I  will  explain  matters  to  you  before 
you  reach  the  house,  as  I  don't  want  Mrs.  Hill  or  Conrad 
to  know  about  the  matter.  Indeed,  for  reasons  of  my  own, 
I  shall  let  them  think  that  I  discharged  you." 

Ben  smiled;  he  was  not  averse  to  such  a  plan. 

"  Now  for  the  business.    I  own  a  farm  in  the  western  part 


THE    STORE   BOY  101 

of  Pennsylvania.  I  have  for  years  let  it  for  a  nominal  sum 
to  a  man  named  Jackson.  Of  late  he  has  been  very  anxious 
to  buy  it,  and  has  offered  me  a  sum  greater,  than  I  had  sup- 
posed it  to  be  worth.  As  I  know  him  to  be  a  close-fisted 
man,  who  has  tried  more  than  once  to  get  me  to  reduce  the 
small  rent  I  charge  him,  this  naturally  excites  my  curiosity. 
I  think  something  has  been  discovered  that  enhances  the 
value  of  the  farm,  and,  if  so,  I  want  to  know  it.  You  are  a 
boy,  and  a  visit  to  the  neighborhood  will  not  excite  sur- 
prise." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Ben.  "  When  do  you  wish  me  to 
start?" 

"  This  afternoon.  I  have  prepared  written  instructions, 
and  here  is  a  pocketbook  containing  a  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars for  expenses." 

"Shall  I  need  so  much?" 

"  Probably  not;  but  I  wish  you  to  be  amply  provided.  You 
will  remove  all  your  things  from  my  house,  but  you  may 
store  anything  you  don't  need  to  carry." 

When  Conrad  heard  that  Mrs.  Hamilton  had  taken  Ben 
with  her,  he  was  alarmed  lest  it  should  be  discovered  that 
the  boy  pawning  the  opera  glass  was  not  Ben  but  himself. 
When,  upon  Mrs.  Hamilton's  return,  he  was  summoned  to 
her  presence,  he  entered  with  trepidation. 

"Is  your  toothache  better,  Conrad?"  asked  Mrs.  Hamil- 
ton. 

"A  little  better,  thank  you." 

"  I  am  going  to  make  a  change  in  your  position.  Ben  is 
to  leave  me,  and  you  will  take  his  place  as  my  secretary." 

Conrad's  heart  bounded  with  joy  and  surprise. 

"How  can  I  thank  you.  Cousin  Hamilton!"  he  said,  with 
a  feeling  of  great  relief. 

"By  serving  me  well." 

"All  has  turned  out  for  the  best,  mother,"  said  Conrad, 
joyfully,  as  he  sought  his  mother's  presence.  "  Ben  is 
bounced,  and  I  am  to  take  his  place." 

"Heaven  be  praised!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Hill. 

"  I  hope  you'll  soon  find  a  place,"  said  Conrad,  mockingly, 
when  Ben  left  the  house,  valise  in  hand. 

"  I  think  I  shall,"  answered  Ben,  calmly. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

BEN   "  GOES  WEST  " 

Undisturbed  by  the  thought  that  his  departure  was  viewed 
with  joy  by  Conrad  and  his  mother,  Ben  set  out  on  his 
Western  journey. 


102  THE   STORE   BOY  i 

His  destination  was  Centerville,  in  Western  Pennsylvania,  i 

I  may  as  well  say  that  this  is  not  the  real  name  of  the  place, 

which,  for  several  reasons,  I  conceal.  ; 

Though  Ben  was  not  an  experienced  traveler,  he  found  '- 

no  difficulty  in  reaching  his  destination,  having  purchased  ' 

a  copy  of  "Appleton's  Railway  Guide,"  which  afforded  him  i 

all  the  information  he  required.    About  fifty  miles  this  side  l 

of  Centerville  he  had  for  seat  companion  a  man  of  middle  ] 

age,  with  a  pleasant  face  covered  with  a  brown  beard,  who,  ] 

after  reading  through  a  Philadelphia  paper  which  he  haa:| 

purchased  of  the  train-boy,  seemed  inclined  to  have  a  social  i 

chat  with  Ben.  < 

"  May  I  ask  your  destination,  my  young  friend?"  he  asked. !< 

Ben  felt  that  it  was  well  for  him  to  be  cautious,  though] 

he  was   pleasantly  impressed  with   the   appearance   of   his^ 

companion.  '^ 

"  I  think  I  shall  stop  over  at  Centerville,"  he  said.  | 

"Indeed!    That  is  my  destination."  | 

"Do  you  live  there?"  asked  Ben.  'h 

"No,"  said  the  other,   laughing.     "Do  I  look  like  it?     I :? 

thought  you  would  read  '  JN'ew  York '  in  my  face  and  man-  J 

ner."  1 

"  I  am  not  an  experienced  observer,"  said  Ben,  modestly;     | 

"  Centerville  has  a  prosperous  future  before  it,"  said  thoj 

stranger.  | 

"  Has  it?     I  don't  know  much  about  the  place.     I  never  | 

was  there."  i 

"You  know,  of  course,  that  it  is  in  the  oil  region?"         J 

"  I  didn't  even  know  that."  | 

"  A  year  ago,"  resumed  the  stranger,  "  it  was  a  humdrural 

farming  town,  and  not  a  very  prosperous  one  either.     TheJ 

land  is  not  of  good  quality,  and  the  farmers  found  it  hard  ^ 

work  to  get  a  poor  living.    Now  all  is<  changed."  j 

Ben's  attention  was  aroused.    He  began  to  understand  why  if 

Mr.  Jackson  wished  to  buy  the  farm  he  rented  from  Mrs.J 

Hamilton.  -'^ 

"  This  is  all  new  to  me,"  he  said.    "  I  suppose  oil  has  been^f 

found  there?  "  | 

"Yes;  one  old  farm,  which  would  have  been  dear  at  three ^ 

thousand  dollars,  is  now  yielding  hundreds  of  barrels,  daily,  | 

and  would  fetch  fifty  thousand  dollars  easily."  | 

Ben  began  to  be  excited.     If  he  could  only  sell  Mrs.  Ham-';;' 

ilton's  farm  for  half  that  he  felt  that  he  would  be  doing  an  ''] 

excellent  thing.  v 

"  I  suppose  you  are  interested  in  some  of  the  petroleum  )■ 

wells?  "  he  said.  } 

"  Not  yet,  but  I  hope  to  be.     In  fact,  I  don't  mind  con-  'i!>. 

fessing  that  I  represent  a  New  York  syndicate,  and  that  my  jj 

object  in  making  this  journey  is  to  purchase,  if  I  can,  thel 

Jackson  farm."  '•% 

/i 


THE    STORE   BOY  103 

".The  Jackson  farm!"  repeated  Ben,  Lis  breath  almost 
taken  away  by  his  surprise. 

"Yes;  do  you  know  anything  about  it?"  asked  his  com- 
panion. 

'■I  have  heard  of  a  farmer  in  Centerville  named  Peter 
Jackson." 

"  That  is  the  man." 

"  And  his  farm  is  one  of  the  lucky  ones,  then?  " 

"  it  promises  to  be." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  you  will  have  to  pay  a  large  sum  for 
it?  "  said  Ben,  trying  to  speak  calmly. 

"  Jackson  is  very  coy,  and,  I  think,  grasping.  He  v»^ants 
fifty  thousand  dollars." 

"  Of  course  you  won't  pay  as  much  ?  " 

"I  should  hjidly  feel  authorized  to  do  so.  I  may  go  as 
high  as  forty  liiousand  dollars." 

Ben  wa:-  dMzlid,  U  he  could  effect  a  sale  at  this  price 
he  would  jje  doing  a  splendid  stroke  of  business,  and  .:/:'. 
effectually  defeat  the  plans  of  Mr.  Jackson,  who,  it  a^ 
had  pretended  that  lie  was  the  owner  of  the  fr.rm,'  i^oynxy 
to  obtain  it  from  Mrs.  Hamilton  at  a  valuation  which  would 
have  been  suitable  before  the  discovery  of  oil,  but  now 
would  be   ludicrously  disproportionate   to   its  real  value. 

"Shall  I  or  shall  I  not,  tell  this  gentleman  the  truth?"" 
he  reflected. 

He  thought  over  the  matter,  and  decided  to  do  so.  The 
discovery  must  be  made  sooner  or  later,  and  there  would  be 
no  advantage  in  delay. 

"  1  don't  think  Jackson  will  sell,"  he  said. 

"  Why  nc  t  ?  "  asked  the  stranger,  in  surprise.  "  Do  you 
know  him?  " 

"  I  never  saw  him  in  my  life." 

"Then  how  can  you  form  any  opinion  on  the  subject?" 

Ben  smiled. 

"  The  ansvN'er  is  easy  enough,"  he  said.  "  Mr.  Jackson  can't 
sell  what  he  doesn't  own." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  he  is  not  the  owner  of  the 
farm  which  he  proposes  to  sell  us?" 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean.  He  is  no  more  the  owner  than 
you  or  I." 

"  You  speak  confidently,  young  man.  Perhaps  you  can  tell 
me  who  is  the  owner?" 

"  I  can.     The  owner  is  Mrs.  Hamilton,  of  New  York." 

"Indeed!  That  is  a  genuine  surprise.  Can  you  give  me 
her  address?    I  should  like  to  communicate  with  her." 

"I  will  cheerfully  give  you  her  address,  but  it  won't  be 
necessary,  for  I  represent  her." 

"You!"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  incredulously. 

"Yes;  and  I  am  going  out  to  Centerville  now  as  her  agent. 
This  Jackson,  w!'0  is  her  tenant,  has  been  urging  her  to  sell 
him  the  farm  for  some  time,     lie  has  offered  a  sum  larger 
7  TT 


104  THE    STORE   BOY 

than  the  farm  would  be  worth  but  for  the  discovery  of 
petroleum,  but  has  taken  good  care  not  to  speak  of  this." 

"  How  much  does  he  offer?  " 

"  Five  thousand  dollars." 

"  The  rascal !  He  offers  five  thousand,  and  expects  us  to 
pay  him  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  his  bargain.  What  an 
unmitigated  swindle  it  would  have  been  if  he  had  carried 
out  his  scheme!  " 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  see  his  last  letter?"  said  Ben. 

"  I  should.  I  want  to  see  what  the  old  rascal  has  to  say 
for  himself." 

Ben  took  from  his  pocket  the  letter  in  question,  and  put 
it  into  the  hands  of  his  new  acquaintance. 

It  was  dated  at  Genterville,  October  21.  It  Vs^as  written  in 
a  cramped  hand,  showing  ttiat  the  farmer  was  not  accus'= 
tomed  to  letter-writing. 

It  ran  thus: 

"  Respected  Madam  : 

"As  I  have  already  wrote  you,  I  would  like  to  buy  the 
farm,  and  will  give  you  more  than  anybody  else,  because  I 
am  used  to  living  on  it,  and  it  seems  like  home.  I  am  will- 
ing to  pay  five  thousand  dollars,  though  I  know  it  is  only 
worth  four,  but  it  is  worth  more  to  me  than  to  others.  I 
offer  you  more  because  I  know  you  are  rich,  and  will  not 
sell  unless  you  get  a  good  bargain.  Please  answer  right 
away.  Yours  respectfully, 

"  Peter  Jackson. 

"  P.  S. — My  offer  will  hold  good  for  only  two  weeks." 

"  He  seems  to  be  very  much  in  earnest,"  said  Ben. 

"  He  has  reasons  to  be  so,  as  he  hopes  to  make  forty-five 
thousand  dollars  on  his  investment." 

"  He  will  be  bitterly  disappointed,"  said  Ben. 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  Jackson,"  said  the  stranger. 
"I  would  just  as  soon  negotiate  with  you.  Are  you  au- 
thorized to  sell  the  farm?" 

"  No,"  answered  Ben;  "but  Mrs.  Hamilton  will  probably  be 
guided  by  my  advice  in  the  matter." 

"  That  amounts  to  the  same  thing.  I  offer  you  forty  thou- 
sand dollars  for  it." 

"  I  think  favorably  of  your  proposal,  Mr.  " 

"  My  name  is  Taylor." 

"Mr.  Taylor;  but  I  prefer  to  delay  answering  till  I  am 
on  the  ground  and  can  judge  better  of  the  matter." 

"  You  are  right.  I  was  surprised  at  first  that  Mrs.  Hamil- 
ton should  have  selected  so  young  an  agent.  I  begin  to  think 
her  choice  was  a  judicious  one." 


THE   STORE   BOY  105 

CHAPTER  XXXI 

MR.   JACKSON  RECEIVES  A  CALL 

"Suppose  we  join  forces,  Ben,"  said  Mr.  Taylor,  family 
iarly. 

"  How  do  you  mean?  " 

"We  will  join  forces  against  this  man  Jackson.  He  wants 
to  swindle  both  of  us — that  is,  those  whom  we  represent." 

"  I  am  willing  to  work  with  you,"  answered  Ben,,  who 
had  been  favorably  impressed  by  the  appearance  and  frank- 
ness of  his  traveling  companion. 

"  Then  suppose  to-morrow  morning — it  is  too  late  to- 
day— we  call  over  and  see  the  old  rascal?" 

"  I  would  rather  not  have  him  know  on  what  errand  I 
come,  just  at  first." 

"  That  is  in  accordance  with  my  own  plans.  You  will  go 
as  my  companion.  He  will  take  you  for  my  son,  or  nephew, 
and,  while  I  am  negotiating,  you  can  watch  and  judge  for; 
yourself." 

"  I  like  the  plan,"  said  Ben. 

"  When  he  finds  out  who  you  are  he  will  feel  pretty  badlj^ 
sold." 

"  He  deserves  it." 

The  two  put  up  at  a  country  hotel,  which,  though  nofi 
luxurious,  was  tolerably  comfortable.  After  the  fatigue  of 
his  journey,  Ben  enjoyed  a  good  supper  and  a  comfortable 
bed.  The  evening,  however,  he  spent  in  the  public  room  of 
the  inn,  where  he  had  a  chance  to  listen  to  the  conversation 
of  a  motley  crowd,  some  of  them  natives  and  residents, 
others  strangers  who  had  been  drawn  to.  Centerville  by  the 
oil  discoveries. 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  a  long,  lank  individual,  "  Centerville's 
goin'  to  be  one  of  the  smartest  places  in  the  United  States. 
It's  got  a  big  future  before  it." 

"That's  so,"  said  a  small,  wiry  man;  "but  I'm  not  so 
much  interested  in  that  as  I  am  in  the  question  whether  I've 
got  a  big  future  before  me." 

"  You're  one  of  the  owners  of  the  Homan  farm,  ain't  you?  " 

"  Yes.  I  wish  I  owned  the  whole  of  it.  Still  I've  made 
nigh  on  to  a  thousand  dollars  durin'  the  last  month  for 
my  share  of  the  profits.     Pretty  fair    eh?" 

"  I  should  say  so.  You've  got  a  good  purchase;  but  there's 
one  better  in  my  opinion." 

"Where's  that?" 

"  Peter  Jackson's  farm." 

Here  Ben  and  Mr.  Taylor  began  to  listen  with  interest, 

"He  hasn't  begun  to  work  it  any,  has  he?" 

"  Not  much,  but  just  enough  to  find  out  its  value." 

"What's  he  waitin'  for?" 


106  THE    STORE    BOY 

"  There's  some  New  York  people  want  it.  If  he  can  get  his 
price,  he'll  sell  it  to  them  for  a  good  sum  down." 

"What  does  he  ask?" 

"  He  wants  fifty  thousand  dollars." 

"  Whew!  that's  rather  stifflsh.  I  thought  the  property  be- 
longed to  a  lady  in  New  York." 

"  So  it  did;  but  Jackson  says  he  bought  it  a  year  ago." 

"  He  was  lucky." 

Ben  and  Mr.  Taylor  looked  at  each  other  again.  It  was 
easy  to  see  the  old  farmer's  game,  and  to  understand  why 
he  was  so  anxious  to  secure  the  farm,  out  of  which  he  could 
make  so  large  a  sum  of  money. 

"  He's  playing  a  deep  game,  Ben,"  said  Taylor,  when  they 
had  left  the  room. 

"Yes;  but  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  put  a  spoke  in  his 
wheel." 

"  I  shall  be  curious  to  see  how  he  takes  it  when  he  finds 
the  negotiation  taken  out  of  his  hands.  We'll  play  with  him 
a  little,  as  a  cat  plays  with  a  mouse." 

The  next  morning,  after  a  substantial  breakfast.  Ben  and 
his  new  friend  took  a  walk  to  the  farm  occupied  by  Peter 
Jackson.  It  was  about  half  a  mile  away,  and,  when  reached, 
gave  no  indication  of  the  wealth  it  was  capable  of  producing. 
The  farmhouse  was  a  plain  structure  nearly  forty  years  old, 
badly  in  need  of  paint,  and  the  outbuildings  harmonized 
with  it  in  appearance. 

A  little  way  from  the  house  was  a  tall,  gaunt  man,  engaged 
in  mending  a  fence.  He  was  dressed  in  a.  farmer's  blue 
frock  and  overalls,  and  his  gray,  stubby  beard  seemed  to  be 
of  a*  week's  growth.  There  was  a  crafty,  greedy  look  in 
his  eyes,  which  overlooked  a  nose  sharp  and  aquiline.  His 
feet  were  incased  in  a  pair  of  cowhide  boots.  He  looked  in- 
quiringly at  Taylor  as  he  approached,  but  hardly  deigned  to 
look  at  Ben,  who  prbbably  seemed  too  insignificant  for  no- 
tice. He  gave  a  shrewd  guess  at  the  errand  of  the  visitor, 
but  waited  for  him  to  speak  first. 

"  Is  this  Mr.  Jackson?  "  asked  Taylor,  with  a  polite  bow. 

"  That's  my  name,  stranger,"  answered  the  old  man. 

"  My  name  is  Taylor.    I  wrote  to  you  last  week." 

"  I  got  the  letter,"  said  Jackson,  going  on  with  his  work. 
It  was  his  plan  not  to  seem  too  eager,  but  to  fight  shy  in 
order  that  he  might  get  his  price.  Besides,  though  he  would 
have  been  glad  to  close  the  bargain  on  the  spot,  there  was 
an  embarrassing  difficulty.  The  farm  was  not  his  to  seU, 
and  he  was  anxiously  awaiting  Mrs.  Hamilton's  answer  to  his 
proposal. 

"  She  can't  have  heard  of  the  oil  discoveries,"  he  thought, 
*'  and  five  thousand  dollars  will  seem  a  big  price  for  the 
farm.     She  can't  help  agreeing  to  my  terms." 

This  consideration  made  him  hopeful,  but  for  all  that  he 
must  wait,  and  waiting  he  found  very  tantalizing. 


THE   STORE   BOY  107 

"*:c[ave  you  decided  to  accept  my  offer,  Mr.  Jackson?" 

"Waal,  I'll  have  to  take  a  leetle  time  to  consider.  How 
much  did  you  say  you'd  give?" 

"  Forty  thousand  dollars." 

"I'd  ought  to  have  fifty." 

"Forty  thousand  dollars  is  a  big  sum  of  money." 

"  And  this  farm  is  a  perfect  gold  mine.  Shouldn't  wonder 
if  it  would  net  a  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

"  There  is  no  certainty  of  that,  and  the  purchasers  will 
have  to  take  a  big  risk." 

"  There  isn't  much  risk.  Ask  anybody  in  Genterville  what 
he  thinks  of  the  Jackson  farm." 

"  Suppose  I  were  ready  to  come  to  your  terms — mind,  I 
don't  say  I  am — would  you  sign  the  papers  to-day?  " 

Jackson  looked  perplexed.    He  knew  he  could  not  do  it. 

"What's  your  hurry?"  he  said. 

"  The  capitalists  whom  I  represent  are  anxious  to  get  to 
work  as  soon  as  possible.    That's  natural,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Ye-es,"  answered  Jackson. 

"  So,  the  sooner  we  fix  matters  the  better.  I  want  to  go 
back  to  New  York  to-morrow  if  I  can." 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  give  my  answer  so  soon  as  that. 
Wait  a  minute,  though." 

A  boy  was  approaching,  Jackson's  son,  if  one  could  judge 
from  the  resemblance,  holding  a  letter  in  his  hand. 

"  Come  right  here,  Abner,"  he  called  out,  eagerly. 

Abner  approached,  and  his  father  snatched  the  letter  from 
his  hand.  It  bore  the  New  York  postmark,  but,  on  opening 
it,  Jackson  looked  bitterly  disappointed.  He  had  hoped  it 
was  from  Mrs.  Hamilton,  accepting  his  offer  for  the  farm; 
but,  instead  of  that,  it  was  an  unimportant  circular. 

"I'll  have  to  take  time  to  think  over  your  offer,  Mr.  Tay- 
lor," he  said.  "  You  oee,  I'll  have  to  talk  over  matters  with 
the  old  woman." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Taylor,  carelessly,  "  I  was  told  in  the 
village  that  you  didn't  own  the  farm — that  it  was  owned  by 
a  lady  in  New  York." 

"She  used  to  own  it,"  said  the  farmer,  uneasily;  "but  I 
bought  it  of  her  a  year  ago." 

"  So  that  you  have  a  right  to  sell  it?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have." 

"What  have  you  to  say  to  that,  Ben?"  asked  Taylor, 
quietly. 

"  That  if  Mrs.  Hamilton  has  sold  the  farm  to  Mr.  Jackson 
she  doesn't  know  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  boy?  "  gasped  Jackson, 

"  I  mean  that  when  I  left  New  York  Mrs.  Hamilton  owned 
the  farm." 

"  It's  a  lie!  "  muttered  the  farmer;  but  he  spoke  with  diffi-* 
culty.    "  I  bought  it  a  year  ago." 


108  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  In  that  case  it  is  strange  that  you  should  have  written 
a  week  ago  offering  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  farm." 

"Who  says  I  wrote?" 

"I  do;  and  I  have  your  letter  in  my  pocket,"  answered 
Ben,  firmly. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

BEN    SELLS   THE   FARM 

The  farmer  stared  at  Ben  panic-stricken.  He  had  thought 
success  within  his  grasp.  He  was  to  bo  a  rich  man — inde- 
pendent for  life — as  the  result  of  the  trick  which  he  was 
playing  upon  Mrs.  Hamilton.  His  disappointment  was  in- 
tense, and  he  looked  the  picture  of  discomfiture. 

"  I  don't  believe  you,"   he  faltered  after  a  pause. 

Ben  drew  a  letter  from  his  inside  pocket  and  held  it  up. 

"  Do  you  deny  the  writing?  "  he  said. 

"Give  it  to  me!"  said  Jackson,  with  a  sudden  movement. 

"No,  thank  you;  I  prefer  to  keep  it.  I  shall  make  no 
use  of  it  unless  it  is  necessary.  I  called  here  to  notify  you 
that  Mrs.  Hamilton  does  not  propose  to  sacrifice  the  farm. 
If  it  is  sold  at  all  it  will  be  to  some  one  who  will  pay  Its 
full  value." 

"  You  can't  sell  it,"  said  Jackson,  sullenly.  "  I  have  a 
lease." 

"  Produce  it." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  shall  stay  till  my  year's  out." 

"  That  will  depend  upon  the  new  owner.  If  he  is  willing, 
Mrs.  Hamilton  will  not  object." 

"  I  think  you've  got  him  there,  Ben,"  said  Mr.  Taylor,  with 
a  laugh.  "  Mr.  Jackson,  I  think  it  won't  be  worth  while  to 
continue  our  conversation.  You  undertook  to  sell  what  was 
not  yours.  I  prefer  to  deal  with  the  real  owner  or  her  rep- 
resentative." 

"That  boy  is  an  impostor!"  muttered  Jackson.  "Why. 
he's  only  a  schoolboy.    What  does  he  know  about  business? 

"  I  think  he  has  proved  a  match  for  you.  Good-morning, 
Mr.  Jackson.     Ben,  let  us  be  going." 

"  Now,"  said  Taylor,  as  they  were  walking  toward  the  inn, 
"what  do  you  say  to  my  offer?" 

"  Please  state  it,  Mr.  Taylor." 

"  I  offer  forty  thousand  dollars  for  the  farm.  It  may  be 
worth  considerably  more  than  that;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  wells  may  soon  run  dry.    I  have  to  take  the  chances." 

"  That  seems  a  fair  offer,  Mr.  Taylor,"  said  Ben,  frankly. 
"  If  I  were  the  owner  I  would  accept  it;  but  I  am  acting  for 
another  who  may  not  think  as  I  do." 


THE   STORE   BOY  109 

"Will  you  consult  her  and  let  me  know?" 

"  I  will  write  at  once." 

"Why  not  telegraph?  The  delay  would  be  too  great  if 
you  trust  to  the  mail." 

"  I  will  do  as  you  suggest,"  answered  Ben,  "  if  there  is 
an  opportunity  to  telegraph  from  this  place." 

"  There  is  an  office  at  the  depot." 

"  Then  I  will  take  that  on  my  way  back  to  the  hotel." 

At  one  corner  of  the  depot  Ben  found  a  telegraph  op- 
erator. After  a  little  consideration,  he  dashed  off  the  fol- 
lowing telegram: 

"  No.  —  Madison  Avenue,  New  York. 
"  To  Mrs.  Hamilton  : 

"  Oil  has  been  discovered  on  your  farm.  I  am  offered  forty 
thousand  dollars  for  it  by  a  responsible  party.  What  shall 
I  do?  Ben  Barclay." 

"  Send  answer  to  the  hotel,"  said  Ben,  to  the  operator. 
Four  hours  later  a  messenger  brought  to  Ben  the  follow- 
ing dispatch; 

"  Your  news  is  most  surprising.  Sell  at  the  figure  named 
if  you  think  it  best.    You  have  full  powers. 

"  Helen  Hamilton." 

Mr.  Taylor  watched  Ben's  face  eagerly  as  he  read  the  tele- 
gram, for  he  knew  that  it  must  relate  to  his  offer. 

"What  does  your  principal  say?"  he  inquired. 

"You  can  read  the  telegram,  Mr.  Taylor." 

Taylor  did  so. 

"So  you  have  full  powers?"  he  said.  "Mrs.  Hainilton 
must  feel  great  confidence  in  you." 

There  was  a  proud  flush  on  Ben's  cheek  as  he  replied: 

"  I  have  reason  to  think  that  she  does.  I  hope  it  is  not 
misplaced." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  drive  a  hard  bargain  with  me,  Ben. 

"I  don't  mean  to  bargain  at  all.  You  have  made  a  fair 
offer,  and  I  will  accept  it." 

Taylor  looked  pleased. 

"  Some  boys  in  your  position,"  he  said,  "  would  have  stipu- 

Iq  +  q/J   for    £t   DrGS6Ilt." 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Ben,  promptly.  "  I 
should  not  think  it  honest." 

"  Your  honesty,  my  boy,  is  of  the  old-fashioned  kind.  It 
is  not  the  kind  now  in  vogue.  I  like  you  the  better  for 
it,  and  if  you  were  not  in  Mrs.  Hamilton's  employ  I  would 
try  to  secure  your  services  myself." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Taylor.  The  time  may  come  when  I  shall 
remind  you  of  your  promise."  ,      . 

"  You  will  find  I  have  not  forgotten  it.    And  now  to  busi- 


110  THE    STORE    BOY 

ness.  We  will  go  to  a  lawyer  and  have  the  necessary  pa- 
pers drawn  up,  which  you  shall  sign  in  behalf  of  your 
principal." 

The  business  was  speedily  arranged,  and  by  supper-time 
Ben  found  that  he  had  nothing  further  to  detain  him  in 
Centerville.  He  felt  that  he  had  done  a  smart  stroke  of 
business.  Mrs.  Hamilton  had  been  surprised  at  receiving  an 
offer  of  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  farm,  yet  he  had  sold 
it  for  forty  thousand! 

As  they  were  returning  from  the  lawyer's  office  they  met 
Farmer  Jackson  just  returning  from  the  post  office, 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Jackson,"  said  Taylor,  "  you  will  per- 
haps be  interested  to  learn  that  your  farm  has  been  sold." 

The  farmer  paused,  and  a  troubled  look  appeared  upon 
his  face. 

"Are  you  going  to  turn  me  out  of  the  nouse?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  if  you  wish  to  live  in  it.  I  shall  employ  workmen  at 
once  to  sink  wells,  and  develop  the  property.  They  will 
need  to  board  somewhere.    Are  you  willing  to  board  them?  " 

"Yes;  I  shall  be  glad  to,"  answered  Jackson.  "I  am  a 
poor  man,  and  it's  hard  work  to  make  a  living  by  farming." 

"Very  well;  we  can  no  doubt  make  an  arrangement.  I 
am  obliged  to  go  to  New  York  to  complete  arrangements  for 
the  transfer  of  the  property,  but  I  shall  come  back  as  soon 
as  possible  and  commence  operations." 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  workin'  for  myself,"  said  Jackson. 

"  Then  you  are  the  first  man  I  engage." 

The  old  farmer  brightened  up.  He  was  to  make  money 
out  of  the  new  discoveries  after  all,  though  not  in  the  way 
he  had  contemplated. 

"  When  are  you  going  back  to  New  York,  Ben? "  asked 
Taylor. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  detain  me  here  any  longer." 

"  We  can  go  back  together,  then." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  travel  in  your  company,  sir." 

"  Do  you  expect  to  remain  in  Mrs.  Hamilton's  employ?  * 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Ben. 

"  What  were  you  doing?  " 

"  Keeping  accounts  and  acting  as  her  private  secretary." 

"Do  you  like  it?" 

"Yes;  I  find  it  very  pleasant,  or  would  be  but  for  one 
thing." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  She  has  relatives  living  in  the  house  who  do  not  like 
me." 

"  Jecilous,  eh?" 

"  Perhaps  so." 

"  Let  me  say  frankly,  that  you  are  fitted  for  something 
higher.    I  am  a  good  judge  of  men " 

Ben  smiled. 

"  Boys,  then;  and  I  consider  you  a  boy  of  excellent  busi- 


THE   STORE   BOY  111 

ness  capacity.  After  I  have  got  my  oil  wells  under  way,  I 
should  like  to  engage  you  as  superintendent," 

"  I  am  flattered  by  your  good  opinion,  Mr.  Taylor,  but  it  is 
a  business  I  know  nothing  of." 

"  You  would  make  it  your  business  to  learn  it,  or  I  mis- 
take you." 

"  You  are  right  there,  sir." 

"  However,  there  will  be  plenty  of  time  to  arrange  about 
this  matter.  It  would  probably  be  two  months  before  I  felt 
justified  in  leaving  another  in  charge." 

The  two  started  for  New  York.  About  fifty  miles  before 
reaching  the  city,  as  Ben  was  reading  a  magazine  he  had 
purchased  from  the  train-boy,  he  felt  a  touch  upon  his 
shoulder. 

Looking  up,  he  recognized,  to  his  amazement,  the  tramp 
with  whom  he  had  had  an  adventure  some  weeks  before  in 
Pentonville. 

"  I  see  you  know  me,"  said  the  tramp,  with  a  smile. 


CHAPTER  XXXni 

GOOD   NEWS 

The  tramp,  as  we  may  call  him  for  want  of  a  different 
name,  certainly  showed  signs  of  improvement  in  his  per- 
sonal appearance.  He  looked  quite  respectable,  in  fact,  in 
a  business  suit  of  gray  mixed  cloth,  and  would  have  passed 
muster  in  any  assemblage. 

"  I  think  I  have  met  you  before,"  answered  Ben,  with  a 
smile. 

"  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  more  of  a  compliment  not 
to  recognize  me.     I  flattered  myself  that  I  had  changed." 

"  So  you  have,  and  for  the  better." 

"  Thank  you.  I  believe  we  rode  together  when  we  last 
met?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ben. 

"And  you  were  not  sorry  to  part  company  with  me — is 
it  not  so?  " 

"  I  won't  contradict  you." 

"Yet  I  am  inclined  to  be  your  friend." 

"I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  Ben,  politely,  though,  truth  to 
tell,  he  did  not  anticipate  any  particular  benefit  to  accrue 
from  the  acquaintance  of  the  speaker. 

"  I  see  you  don't  attach  much  importance  to  my  offer  of 
friendship.     Yet  I  can  do  you  an  important  service." 

Mr.  Taylor,  who  had  been  occupying  a  seat  with  Ben,  her* 
arose. 


112  THE   STORE   BOY 

"You 'have  something  to  say  to  my  young  friend,"  he  said. 
"  Take  my  seat." 

"  Don't  let  me  deprive  you  of  it,"  said  the  other,  with  a 
politeness  Ben  had  not  deemed  him  capable  of. 

"  By  no  means.  I  am  going  into  the  smoking-car  to  smoke 
a  cigar.    Ben,  I  will  be  back  soon." 

"  I  didn't  expect  to  meet  you  so  far  from  Pentonville," 
said  Ben's  new  companion,  unable  to  suppress  his  curiosity. 

"  I  don't  live  in  Pentonville  now." 

"Where  then?" 

"  In  the  city  of  New  York." 

"Are  you   employed   there?" 

"Yes;  but  I  am  just  returning  from  a  trip  to  Western 
Pennsylvania." 

"Did  you  go  on  business?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  you  are  getting  on,  for  a  country  boy.  What  do 
you  hear  from  home?" 

"  My  mother  is  well,  but  I  fancy  that  is  not  what  you 
mean." 

"  Yes,  I  am  interested  about  your  mother.  Has  she  yet 
paid  off  that  mortgage  on  her  cottage?" 

"How  did  you  know  there  was  a  mortgage?"  asked  Ben, 
in  surprise. 

"  I  know  more  than  you  suppose.  What  are  the  chances 
that  she  will  be  able  to  pay?  " 

"  They  are  very  small,"  answered  Ben,  gravely;  "  but  the 
money  is  not  yet  due." 

"When  will  it  be  due?" 

"  In  about  six  weeks." 

"  Squire  Davenport  will  foreclose — I  know  him  well  enough 
for  that." 

"  So  I  suppose,"  said  Ben,  soberly. 

"  Is  there  no  friend  w^ho  will  oblige  you  with  the  money?" 

"  I  don't  know  of  any  one  I  should  feel  at  liberty  to  call 
on." 

It  came  into  his  mind  that  Mrs.  Hamilton  was  abundantly 
able  to  help  them,  but  she  did  not  know  his  mother,  and  it 
would  savor  of  presumption  for  him  to  ask  so  great  a  favor. 
True,  he  had  effected  a  most  profitable  sale  for  her,  but 
that  was  only  in  the  line  of  his  faithful  duty,  and  gave  him 
no  claim  upon  his  employer. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  the  gentleman  you  were  traveling  with 
— the  one  who  has  gone  into  the  smoking-car — might " 

"He  is  only  a  business  acquaintance;  I  have  known  him 
less  than  a  week." 

"  To  be  sure,  that  alters  matters.  He  is  not  your  employer, 
then?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  I  believe  I  shall  have  to  help  you  myself." 

Ben  stared  at  his  companion  in  amazement.    What!  this 


THE   STORE   BOY  113 

man,  who  had  robbed  him  of  a  dollar  only  four  weeks  be- 
fore, to  offer  assistance  in  so  important  a  matter! 

"  I  suppose  you  are  joking,"  said  he,  after  a  pause. 

"  Joking!  Far  from  it.  I  mean  just  what  I  say.  If  Squire 
Davenport  undertakes  to  deprive  your  mother  of  her  home, 
I  will  interfere,  and,  you  will  see,  with  effect." 

"  Would  you  mind  explaining  to  me  how  you  would  help 
us?"  asked  Ben. 

"  Yes,  in  confidence,  it  being  understood  that  I  follow  my 
own  course  in  the  matter." 

"  That  is  fair  enough." 

"  Suppose  I  tell  you,  then,  that  Squire  Davenport  (I  be- 
lieve that  is  the  title  he  goes  by  in  your  village)  owes  your 
mother  more  than  the  amount  of  the  mortgage." 

"Is  this  true?"  ejaculated  Ben,  very  much  surprised- 

"  It  is  quite  true." 

"But  how  can  it  be?" 

"  Your  father,  at  his  death,  held  a  note  of  Davenport's  for 
a  thousand  dollars — money  which  he  had  placed  in  his 
hands — a  note  bearing  six  per  cent,  interest." 

Ben  was  more  and  more  surprised;  at  first  he  was  elated, 

fllPIl    (lGDr6SS6(l 

"  It  will  do  me  no  good,"  he  said;  "  nothing  was  found  at 
father's  death,  and  the  note  is  no  doubt  destroyed." 

"  So  Squire  Davenport  thinks,"  said  his  companion, 
quietly. 

"  But  isn't  it  true?  " 

"  No;  that  note  not  only  is  in  existence,  but  I  know  where 
to  lay  my  hands  on  it." 

"Then  it  will  more  than  offset  the  mortgage?"  said  Ben, 
joyfully. 

"  I  should  say  so.  No  interest  has  been  paid  on  the  note 
for  more  than  five  years.  The  amount  due  must  be  quite 
double  the  amount  of  the  mortgage." 

"  How  can  I  thank  you  for  this  information? "  said  Ben. 
"  We  shall  not  be  forced  to  give  up  our  little  cottage,  after 
all.  But  how  could  Squire  Davenport  so  wickedly  try  to 
cheat  us  of  our  little  property?" 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  the  tramp,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
"your  question  savors  of  verdancy.  Learn  that  there  is  no 
meanness  too  great  to  be  inspired  by  the  love  of  money." 

"But  Squire  Davenport  was  already  rich." 

"  And  for  that  reason  he  desired  to  become  richer." 

"  When  shall  we  go  to  see  the  squire  and  tell  him  about 
the  note?  " 

"I  prefer  that  you  should  wait  till  the  day  the  mortgage 
comes  due.    When  is  that?" 

"  On  the  twentieth  of  December." 

"  Then  on  the  nineteenth  of  December  we  will  both  go  to 
Pentonville  and  wait  till  the  squire  shows  his  hand." 


114  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  You  seem  to  be — excuse  me — in  "better  circumstances 
than  when  we  last  met." 

"  I  am.  An  old  uncle  of  mine  died  last  month,  and  con- 
siderately left  me  ten  thousand  dollars.  Perhaps  if  he  had 
known  more  about  my  way  of  life  he  would  have  found 
another  heir.  It  has  led  me  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf,  and 
henceforth  I  am  respectable,  as  befits  a  man  of  property.  I 
even  keep  a  cardoase." 

He  drew  out  a  cardcase  and  handed  a  card  to  Ben,  who 
surveyed  it  with  curiosity.  It  bore  the  name  of  Harvey 
Dinsmore. 

"Mr.  Dinsmore,"  said  our  young  hero,  "I  rejoice  at  your 
good  fortune." 

"  Thank  you.    Shall  we  be  friends?  " 

"  With  pleasure." 

"Then  I  have  more  good  news  for  you.  Your  father 
owned  twenty-five  shares  in  a  Western  railway.  These 
shares  are  selling  at  par,  and  a  year's  dividends  are  due." 

"  Why,  we  shall  be  rich,"  said  Ben,  fairly  dazzled  by  this 
second  stroke  of  good  fortune. 

"  I  hope  so;  though  this  is  only  a  beginning." 

"  How  can  we  prove  that  the  railway  shares  belong  to 
us?" 

"Leave  that  to  me.  On  the  nineteenth  of  December  you 
will  meet  me  at  Pentonville.  Till  then  we  probably  shall  not 
meet." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Taylor  made  his  appearance,  return- 
ing from  the  smoking-car,  and  Harvey  Dinsmore  left  them. 

"Well,  Ben,  has  your  friend  entertained  you?"  asked  Tay- 
lor. 

"  He  has  told  me  some  very  good  news." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

In  due  time  they  reached  New  York,  and  Ben  started  up- 
town to  call  upon  Mrs.  Hamilton. 


CHAPTER   XXXrV 

CONRAD   GOES   INTO  WALL   STREET 

When  Conrad  succeeded  Ben  as  Mrs.  Hamilton's  private 
secretary,  he  was  elated  by  what  he  considered  his  promo- 
tion. His  first  disappointment  came  when  he  learned  that 
his  salary  was  to  be  but  five  dollars  a  week.  He  did  not  dare 
to  remonstrate  with  his  employer,  but  he  expressed  him- 
self freely  to  his  mother. 

"  Cousin  Hamilton  might  afford  to  pay  me  more  than  five 
dollars  a  week,"  he  said  bitterly. 


THE   STORE   BOY  115 

"It  is  small,"  said  his  mother,  cautiously,  "but  we  must 
look  to  the  future." 

"  If  you  mean  till  Cousin  Hamilton  dies,  it  may  be  twenty 
or  thirty  years.  Why,  she  looks  healthier  than  you,  mother, 
and  will  probably  live  longer." 

Mrs.  Hill  looked  grave.    She  did  not  fancy  this  speech. 

"  I  don't  think  we  shall  have  to  wait  so  long,"  she  said- 
"When  you  are  twenty-one  Cousin  Hamilton  will  probably 
do  something  for  you." 

"  That's  almost  five  years,"  grumbled  Conrad. 

''  At  any  rate  we  have  got  Ben  Barclay  out  of  the  house, 
that's  one  comfort." 

"  Yes,  I  am  glad  of  that;  but  I'd  rather  be  in  my  old  place 
than  this,  if  I  am  to  get  only  five  dollars  a  week." 

"  Young  people  are  so  impatient,"  sighed  Mrs.  Hill.  "  You 
don't  seem  to  consider  that  it  isn't  alone  taking  Ben's  place, 
but  you  have  got  rid  of  a  dangerous  rival  for  the  inher- 

if  rlTlPP    " 

"  That's  true,"  said  Conrad,  "  and  I  hated  Ben.  I'd  rather 
any  other  boy  would  cut  me  out  than  he." 

"Do  you  know  what  has  become  of  him?" 

"No;  I  expect  that  he  has  gone  back  to  the  country — ^un- 
less he's  blacking  boots  or  selling  papers  downtown  some- 
where. By  Jove,  I'd  like  to  come  across  him  with  a  black- 
ing-brush. He  used  to  put  on  such  airs.  I  would  like  to 
have  heard  Cousin  Hamilton  give  him  the  grand  bounce." 

Nothing  could  be  more  untrue  than  that  Ben  put  on  airs, 
but  Conrad  saw  him  through  the  eyes  of  prejudice,  and  per- 
suaded himself  that  such  was  the  fact.  In  reality,  Ben  was 
exceedingly  modest  and  unassuming,  and  it  was  this,  among 
other  things,  that  pleased  Mrs.  Hamilton; 

Conrad  continued  to  find  his  salary  insufficient.  He  was 
still  more  dissatisfied  after  an  interview  with  one  of  his 
school  companions,  a  boy  employed  in  a  Wall  Street  broker's 
office. 

He  was  just  returning  from  an  errand  on  which  Mrs. 
Hamilton  had  sent  him,  when  he  overtook  Fred  Lathrop  on 
his  way  uptown. 

The  attention  of  Conrad  was  drawn  to  a  heavy  gold  ring 
with  a  handsome  stone  on  Fred's  finger. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  ring?  "  asked  Conrad,  who  had 
himself  a  fancy  for  rings. 

"Bought  it  in  Maiden  Lane.     How  do  you  like  it?" 

"  It  is  splendid.  Do  you  mind  telling  me  how  much  you 
paid?  " 

"  I  paid  forty-five  dollars.    It's  worth  more." 

"Forty-five  dollars!"  ejaculated  Conrad.  "Why,  you 
must  be  a  millionaire.    Where  did  you  get  so  much  money?  " 

"  I  didn't  find  it  in  the  street,"  answered  Fred,  jocularly. 

"Can't  you  tell  a  feller?  You  didn't  save  it  out  of  your, 
wrages,  did  you?  " 


116  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  My  wages?  I  should  say  not.  Why  I  only  get  six  dol- 
lars a  week,  and  have  to  pay  car-fare  and  lunches  out  of 
that." 

"■  Then  it  isn't  equal  to  my  five  dollars,  for  that  is  all 
clear.    But  all  the  same,  I  can't  save  anything." 

"  Nor  I." 

"  Then  how  can  you  afford  to  buy  forty-five-dollar  rings?  " 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you,"  said  Fred.  "  I  made  the  money 
by  speculating." 

"Speculating!"  repeated  Conrad,  still  in  the  dark. 

"Yes.    I'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"Do!  there's  a  good  fellow." 

"You  see,  I  bought  fifty  Erie  shares  on  a  margin." 

"How's  that?" 

"  Why  I  got  a  broker  to  buy  me  fifty  shares  on  a  mar- 
gin of  one  per -cent.  He  did  it  to  oblige  me.  I  hadn't  any 
money  to  put  up,  but  I  had  done  him  one  or  two  favors,  and 
he  did  it  out  of  good  nature.  As  the  stock  was  on  the  rise, 
he  didn't  run  much  of  a  risk.  Well,  I  bought  at  44  and  sold 
at  45  1-4.  So  I  made  fifty  dollars  over  and  above  the  com- 
mission. I  tell  you  I  felt  good  when  the  broker  paid  me 
over  five  ten-dollar  bills." 

"  I  should  think  you  would." 

"  I  was  afraid  I'd  spend  the  money  foolishly,  so  I  went 
right  off  and  bought  this  ring.  I  can  sell  it  for  what  I  gave 
at  any  time." 

Conrad's  cupidity  was  greatly  excited  by  this  remarkable 
luck  of  Fred's. 

"  That  seems  an  easy  way  of  making  money,"  he  said. 
"Do  you  think  I  could  try  it?" 

"Anybody  can  do  it  if  he's  got  the  money  to  plank  down 
for  a  margin." 

"  I  don't  think  I  quite  understand." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you.  You  buy  fifty  shares  of  stock,  costing, 
say,  fifty  dollars  a  share." 

"  That  would  be  twenty-five  hundred  dollars." 

"Yes,  if  you  bought  it  right  out.  But  you  don't.  You 
give  the  broker  whatever  per  cent,  he  requires,  say  a  dol- 
lar a  share  (most  of  them  don't  do  it  so  cheap),  and  he 
buys  the  stock  on  your  account.  If  it  goes  up  one  or  two 
points,  say  to  fifty-one  or  fifty-two,  he  sells  out,  and  the 
profit  goes  to  you,  deducting  twenty-five  cents  a  share  which 
he  charges  for  buying  and  selling.  Besides  that  he  pays  you 
back  your  margin." 

"That's  splendid.     But  doesn't  it  ever  go  down?" 

"  I  should  say  so.  If  it  goes  down  a  dollar  a  share,  then, 
of  course,  you  lose  fifty  dollars." 

Conrad  looked  serious.    This  was  not  quite  so  satisfactory. 

"  It  is  rather  risky,  then,"  he  said. 

"  Of   course   there's    some  risk;    but  you  know  the   old 


THE    STORE   BOY  117 

proverb,  '  Nothing  venture,  nothing  have.'  You  must  choose 
the  right  stock — one  that  is  going  up." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  stock,"  said  Conrad. 

"  I  do,"  said  Fred.    "  If  I  had  money  I  know  what  I'd  buy." 

"What?"  asked  Conrad,  eagerly. 

"Pacific  Mail." 

"  Do  you  think  that's  going  up?  " 

"  I  feel  sure  of  it.  I  overheard  my  boss  and  another 
broker  talking  about  it  yesterday,  and  they  both  predicted 
a  bull  movement  in  it." 

"Does  that  mean  it's  going  up?" 

"  To  be  sure." 

"  I  should  like  to  buy  some." 

"  Have  you  got  money  to  plank  down  as  a  margin?  " 

Conrad  had  in  his  pocketbook  fifty  dollars,  which  he  had 
collected  for  Mrs.  Hamilton,  being  a  month's  rent  on  a  small 
store  on  Third  Avenue.  It  flashed  upon  him  that  with  this 
money  he  could  make  fifty  dollars  for  himself,  and  be  able 
to  pay  back  the  original  sum  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  as  soon  as 
the  operation  was  concluded. 

"Could  you  manage  it  for  me,  Fred?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  wouldn't  mind." 

"  Then  I'll  give  you  fifty  dollars,  and  you  do  the  best  you 
can  for  me.     If  I  succeed  I'll  make  you  a  present." 

"  All  right.    I  hope  you'll  win,  I  am  sure." 

Not  giving  himself  time  to  think  of  the  serious  breach  of 
trust  he  was  committing,  Conrad  took  the  money  from  his 
pocket  and  transferred  it  to  his  companion. 

"  It  won't  take  long,  will  it? "  he  asked,  anxiously. 

"  Very  likely  the  stock  will  be  bought  and  sold  to-morrow." 

"  That  will  be  splendid.    You'll  let  me  know  right  off?  " 

"Yes;  I'll  attend  to  that." 

Conrad  went  home  and  reported  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  that  the 
tenant  had  not  paid,  but  would  do  so  on  Saturday. 

Mrs.  Hamilton  was  a  little  surprised,  for  the  Third  Av- 
enue tenant  had  never  before  put  her  off.  Something  in 
Conrad's  manner  excited  her  suspicion,  and  she  resolved  the 
next  day  to  call  herself  on  Mr.  Clark,  the  tenant.  He  would 
be  likely  to  speak  of  the  postponement,  and  give  reasons 
for  it. 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

CONRAD'S   BAD   LUCK 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Hamilton  called  upon  her  tenant  in 
Third  Avenue. 

"  How  is  business  with  you,  Mr.  Clark?  "  she  asked,  after 
purchasing  some  small  *  article. 


118  THE    STORE   BOY 

"Very  good,"  he  answered,  cheerfully.  \ 

"And  you  are  always  in  funds  to  meet  your  liabilities'^"   i 
Yes;  I  am  very  particular  about  that."  -i 

"By  the  way,  did  Conrad— my  young  agent— give  you  a  t 
receipt  yesterday  for  the  rent?  "  ,1 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  storekeeper,  somewhat  surprised,  for  ^ 
he  could  not  understand  the  motive  of  the  question,  I 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  show  it  to  me?  "  '■ 

Mr.  Clark  went  to  his  desk,  and,  after  a  brief  search  re-  • 
turned  with  a  receipt  signed  by  Conrad  for  her.  '  1! 

"Is  there  anything  wrong  about  it?"  asked  the  store-  '^ 
Keeper.  ) 

"  By  no  means.  I  merely  wanted  to  satisfy  myself  upon  ': 
one  point,"  1 

But  what  this  point  was  she  didn't  explain.  .      -1 

"  This  looks ,  serious,"  reflected  Mrs.  Hamilton,  gravely.  I 
"  The  boy  must  have  formed  bad  habits.  It  is  clear  that  he  i 
can  not  bo  depended  upon.  He  is  foolishly  throwing  his  J 
chances  av/ay."  ■'! 

When  Airs.    Hamilton  returned   she  did  not  immediately  I 
speak  to  Gourad  about  her  discovery.     She  waited  for  fur-   '• 
ther  developments.    He  had  assured  her  that  the  rent  would  4 
be  paid  on  Saturday,  and  till  Saturday  she  would  wait.     If 
it  were  only  delay,  his  fault  would  not  be  so  great. 

But  circumstances  prevented  Conrad's  keeping  his  prom- 
ise.   On  Friday  morning,  about  nine  o'clock,  he  found  a  let- 
ter on  the  table  in  the  hall.    He  could  see  by  the  firm  mark 
in  the  corner  that  it  was  from  Bird  &  Brant,  bankers  and  ^^ 
brokers.  t 

This  was  the  tenor:  He  was  notified  that,  in  accordance 
with  his  instructions,  they  had  purchased  fifty  shares  of 
Pacific  Mail  at  43.  It  had  fallen  to  42,  and  they  had  sold 
it  to  avoid  further  loss.  This  had  exhausted  his  margin, 
and  he  was  left  indebted  to  them  in  the  sum  of  $12.50,  com- 
mission for  buying  and  selling,  which  he  was  requested  to 
forvi^ard  at  once. 

Conrad  read  this  letter  with  pale  cheeks  and  sinking  heart. 
He  was  in  a  terrible  scrape.  How  was  he  to  make  up  to 
Mrs.  Hamilton  the  money  he  had  appropriated,  not  to  men- 
tion the  sum  which  he  owed  the  brokers?  f  < 

"Fred  told  me  it  was  sure  to  go  up,"  he  groaned.  "I  1 
wouldn't  have  speculated  but  for  that.  He  ought  at  any  rate  J 
to  pay  the  twelve  dollars  and  a  half."  ji 

He  chanced  to  meet  Fred  in  the  afternoon.  :■  I 

"  You've  got  me  into  a  pretty  scrape,"  he  said.  ;  : 

"  How  is  that?  "     .  >'  i 

"  I  bought  Pacific  Mail,  and  it  went  down."  ,'  I 

"Even  the  oldest  operators   are   liable   to  be  mistaken,"  "■:  j 
said  Fred.    "  I  had  the  point  from  two  experienced  brokers,      j 
But  you  see  Keene,  or  Jay  Gould,  or  some  of  those  big  fel- 
lows stepped  in  and  upset  the  market."  ^  I 


THE    STORE   BOY  119 

"  It's  awfully  serious  for  me,"  said  Conrad,  gloomily. 
"  The  money  didn't  belong  to  me.  I  thought  I  was  sure  to 
make,  and  so  I  risked  it." 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  I  would  have  risked  the  purchase  myself 
if  I  had  the  money,"  said  Fred. 

"  I  think  you  Ought  to  pay  the  brokers'  commission,  since 
you  led  me  into  it." 

"  I  don't,"  answered  Fred,  emphatically.  "  I  gave  you  the 
advice  for  what  it  was  worth." 

"I  can't  pay  Bird  &  Brant.    I  haven't  a  dollar." 

"  I'll  get  Ihem  to  wait  a  week.  You  must  raise  it  some- 
how in  that  time." 

"  That'll  lie  something,"  said  Conrad,  relieved.  "  Some- 
thing may  turn  up  in  that  time.'^ 

On  Saturday  he  went  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  with  a  sober  face. 

"  Cousin  Hamilton,"  he  said,  "  I  want  to  make  a  con- 
fession." 

"What  is  it,  Conrad?" 

"  Mr.  Clark  did  pay  me  that  money  on  Wednesday." 

*' Why  .didn't  you  pay  it  over  to  me  then?" 

"Because  my  pocket  was  picked  on  my  way  from  Third 
Avenue.  I  thought  I  had  a  clew  to  the  pickpocket,  and  migiit 
recover  the  money,  but  I  have  failed.    I  am  awfully  sorry." 

"Can  this  be  true?"  thought  Mrs.  Hamilton.  "If  Ben 
told  me  this  story  I  would  believe  him,  but  Conrad  does  not 
inspire  my  confidence." 

"  Do  you  blame  me  very  much,  Cousin  Hamilton?  "  asked 
Conrad. 

"  I  think  you  must  have  been  careless.  I  will  reflect  upon 
what  you  have  told  me,  and  speak  with  you  on  the  subject 
hereafter." 

"So  far,  so  good!"  thought  Conrad.  "She  believes  the 
story.  She  won't  trouble  me  for  the  money.  Now  if  I  can 
only  raise  twelve  dollars  and  a  half  for  the  brokers." 

Some  days  passed,  and  Conrad  heard  nothing  about  his 
unfortunate  loss.  He  began  to  think  that  he  would  escape 
detection.  He  chanced  to  be  out  when  the  postman  brought 
another  letter  from  Bird  &  Brant.  As  Mrs.  Hamilton  was 
passing  through  the  hall  she  saw  it. 

"What  can  Conrad  have  to  do  with  Wall  Street  brokers?" 
she  asked  herself.  "  I  will  take  care  of  this  letter,  and  speak 
to  him  about  it." 

In  the  afternoon  she  was  out  shopping  and  Conrad  vs^as 
at  home,  when  the  bell  rang.  Having  some  curiosity,  he 
watched  in  the  hall  while  the  servant  was  answering  the 
bell. 

"  Why,  Master  Ben,  have  you  come  back?  "  he  heard  the 
girl  say. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  boy  has  the  cheek  to  come  back?  he 
lid  to  himself.    "  I'll  soon  turn  him  right  about." 


said 


8tt 


120  THE   STORE   BOY  | 

Ben  was  already  in  the  hall,  when  Conrad  walked  up  to  ■ 
him,  and  said,  haughtily  and  insolently:  ] 

"  What  brings  you  back  here,  Ben  Barclay?  " 

"  Business,"  answered  Ben  briefly.  "  Is  Mrs.  Hamilton  at  = 
home?"  I 

"  No,  she  isn't."  ] 

"Then  I  must  wait  till  she  returns,"  and  Ben  auietly  ^ 
placed  his  hat  on  the  hat-stand.  I 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  you  had  better  go  away."  i 

"Why  should  I?"  asked  Ben,  calmly.  5 

"  Mrs.  Hamilton  doesn't  care  to  see  you."  .    {i 

"Did  she  tell  you  so?"  h 

"  No;  but  your  own  common-sense  might  tell  you  so.  Con-  ; 
sidering  under  what  circumstances  you  left  the  house "   ' 

"Under  what  circumstances  did  I  leave  the  house.  Con-  i 
rad  Hill?  "  i 

"  You  know  better  than  I  can  tell  you."  I 

"  Still,  I  should  like  to  have  you  tell  me."  I 

"You  stole  an  opera  glass,  and  pawned  it  at  Simpson's.  | 
Ot  course  Gousm  Hamilton  didn't  want  you  in  the  house  I 
after  that."  'j 

"  No,  I  shouldn't  think  she  would."  •" 

"And  yet  you  have  come  back?" 

"Yes,  because  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  loss  of  the 
opera  glass." 

"Who  did  take  it,  then?" 

"  Don't  you  know?  "  asked  Ben,  significantly. 

The  blood  rushed  to  Conrad's  face. 

"  Yes,  I  do  know,"  he  answered  angrily.  "  You  did  it,  and 
that's  why  Cousin  Hamilton  bounced  you." 

"  I  will  wait  and  ask  her  if  that  is  the  case.  I  have  come 
to  see  her  upon  other  business." 

"What  is  this?"  asked  a  clear,  cold  voice. 

Looking  back,  Conrad  saw  that  it  was  his  mother  who  had 
approached  unheard. 

"  I'm  glad  you've  come,  ma,  to  send  away  this  boy,"  he 
said. 

"  Ben  Barclay  here! "  she  exclaimed,  recoiling  a  step. 

"  He  says  he  wants  to  see  Cousin  Hamilton." 

"  It  is  quite  unnecessary,"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  frigidly.  "  I 
represent  Mrs.  Hamilton,  and  I  tell  him  that  his  presence 
is  unwelcome ! " 

Just  then,  the  door  being  still  open,  Mrs.  Hamilton  her- 
self ascended  the  steps.  % 

"Whose  presence  is  unwelcome?"  she  asked. 

"  Mine,  so  Mrs.  Hill  says,"  responded  Ben. 

"Ben,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Come  up  to  my  oiFice.  I 
want  you,  too,"  she  added,  addressing  Conrad. 

"May  I  come,  too?"  asked  Mrs.  Hill,  looking  pale  and 
angry. 


■fli 


THE    STORE   BOY  121 

"Yes,  your  presence  is  desirable." 

Then  all  went  up  to  Mrs.  Hamilton's  room  on  the  second 
floor. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI 

TURNING   THE  TABLES 

"  Now,  Conrad,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  "  will  you  tell  me  by, 
what  authority  you  send  away  my  visitors?" 

"  I  didn't  suppose  you  would  want  to  see  Ben,"  stammered 
Conrad. 

"Why  not?" 

"After  what  he  has  done?" 

"What  has  he  done?" 

"  He  stole  your  opera  glass  and  pawned  it.' 

"You  are  mistaken.  It  was  stolen  by  a  different  per- 
son." ,     ,    .  X,  1-  i. 

Conrad  started  uneasily,  and  his  mother,  who  was  not 
in  the  secret,  looked  surprised. 

"  I  know  who  took  the  opera  glass,"  contmued  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton. 

"  Who  was  it?  "  asked  the  housekeeper. 

"Your  son,  I  regret  to  say."  , 

"This  is  a  slander!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hill,  angrily. 
"Cousin  Hamilton,  that  boy  has  deceived  you." 

"My  information  did  not  come  from  Ben,  if  that  is  what 

you  mean? "  „         ,.        ,  i.^ 

"  My  son  would  be  incapable  of  stealing,    continued  Mrs. 

Hill.  ,  .,     , 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  think  so.  It  can  easily  be  settled. 
Let  Conrad  go  with  me  to-morrow  to  the  pawnbroker  from 
whom  I  recovered  the  glass,  and  see  if  he  recognizes  him." 

"  He  would  be  sure  to  say  it  was  me,"  stammered  Conrad. 

"  At  any  rate  he  told  me  it  was  not  Ben,  who  made  no  op- 
position to  accompanying  me." 

"  I  see  there  is  a  plot  against  my  poor  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Hill, 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  shall  be  glad  to  believe  him  innocent. 
But  there  is  another  matter  that  requires  investigation. 
Conrad,  here  is  a  letter  v/hich  has  come  for  you.  Are  you 
willing  that  I  should  open  and  read  it?" 

As  she  produced  the  letter,  Conrad  was  panic-stricken. 
He  saw  that  it  was  from  the  brokers,  through  whom  he  had 
purchased  stock,  and  he  knew  that  his  dishonesty  would 
come  to  light. 

"I  think  it  is  only  a  circular,"  he  said,  in  confusion. 

"Then  you  can  have  no  objection  to  my  reading  it?" 

"  I  don't  like  to  show  my  letters,"  said  Conrad,  sullenly. 


122  THE   STORE   BOY 

"  The  boy  is  right,"  said  his  mother,  always  ready  to  back 
up  her  son. 

"  I  have  good  reason  for  wishing  to  know  the  contents 
of  the  letter,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  sternly.  "  I  will  not  open 
it  unless  Conrad  consents,  but  I  will  call  on  the  brokers  and 
question  them  as  to  their  motive  in  addressing  it  to  a  boy." 

Conrad  was  silent.  He  saw  that  there  was  no  escape  for 
him. 

"  Shall  I  read  it?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Conrad,  feebly. 

The  letter  was  opened. 

It  ran  thus : 

"  Mr.  Conrad  Hill  : 

"  You  will  be  kind  enough  to  call  at  our  office  at  once,  and 
pay  commission  due  us  for  buying  and  selling  fifty  shares 
Pacific  Mail.  The  fall  in  the  price  of  the  stock,  as  we  have 
already  notified  you,  exhausted  tihe  money  you  placed  in  our 
Jiands  as  margin.  Yours  respectfully, 

"  Bird  &  Brant." 

Not  only  Conrad,  but  his  mother,  looked  panic-stricken,  as 
Mrs.  Hamilton  read  the  letter  aloud. 

"  So  you  have  been  speculating  in  stocks,"  she  said.  "  How 
much  money  did  you  leave  with  these  brokers?" 

"  Fifty  dollars,"  answered  Conrad. 

"  The  sum  you  received  from  Mr.  Clark,  of  Third  Avenue, 
ias  rent?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Conrad,  desperately. 

"  You  told  me  he  didn't  pay  you." 

"  I  expected  to  have  the  money  to  pay  back  by  Satur- 
day." 

"  That  is,  you  made  sure  of  making  a  profit  on  your  stock. 
Instead  of  this,  you  lost  the  fifty  dollars,  and  are  still  owing 
the  brokers  twelve  dollars  and  a  half?" 

"  Yes." 

"  You  can't  very  well  charge  Ben  with  this  piece  of  dis- 
honesty, as  he  was  absent  from  the  city." 

"  I  hope.  Cousin  Hamilton,  you  won't  be  too  hard  on  the 
poor  boy,"  said  the  housekeeper.  "  He  thought  he  would  be 
able  to  replace  the  money." 

"A  very  dangerous  delusion!  Yet  I  can  find  some  excuse 
for  this  fault,  grave  as  it  is.  There  is  another  which  I  can 
not  so  readily  forgive — one  which  he  shares  with  you,  his 
mother." 

A  red  spot  glowed  in  the  pale  cheeks  of  Mrs.  Hill. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  she  said. 

"  I  mean  that  you  shall,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  severely. 
*'You  and  Conrad  have  done  your  best  to  prejudice  me 
against  Ben,  and  stooped  to  unworthy  means." 


THE    STORE   BOY  123 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  said  the  housekeeper,  quickly,  show- 
ing some  evidence  of  agitation.  ,  ^      ^ 

"  I  have  learned  that  the  letter  which  lured  Ben  to  a  gam- 
bling house  was  concocted  between  you.  The  letter  I  have 
in  my  possession."  ^       ,„    ^^  .,   .    t^  » 

"Who  told  you  such  a  falsehood?    If  it  is  Ben — - 

"  It  is  not  Ben,  Mrs.  Hill.  He  is  as  much  surprised  as 
you  are  to  learn  it  now.  The  letter  I  submitted  to  an  expert, 
who  has  positively  identified  the  handwriting  as  yours,  Mrs. 
Hill  You  were  very  persistent  in  your  attempts  to  make 
me  believe  that  Ben  was  addicted  to  frequenting  gambling 
houses."  ,    ,.  .,^    „      . ,  ,, 

"  I  see  you  are  determined  to  believe  me  guilty,  said  Mrs. 
Hill.  "  Perhaps  you  think  I  know  about  the  opera  glass 
and  this  stock-gambling?"      ,       ^  ,  i,  *     •   „+-f„ 

"  I  have  no  evidence  of  it,  but  I  know  enough  to  justily; 
me  in  taking  a  decisive  step." 

Mrs.  Hill  listened  apprehensively. 

"  It  is  this :  you  and  Conrad  must  leave  my  house.  I  can. 
no  longer  tolerate  your  presence  here." 

"You  send  us  out  to  starve?"  said  the  housekeeper,  bit- 

"No-  I  will  provide  for  you.  I  will  allow  you  fifty  dollars 
a  month  and  Conrad  half  as  much,  and  you  can  board  where 

^^"Whi^rthat  boy  usurps  our  place?"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  bit^ 
terly  j 

"That  is  a  matter  to  be  decided  between  Ben  and  my- 
self " 

"We  will  go  at  once,"  said  the  housekeeper. 

"  I  don't  require  it.  You  can  stay  here  till  you  have  se- 
cured a  satisfactory  boarding  place/' 

But  Conrad  and  his  mother  left  the  house  the  next  morn- 
ing They  saw  that  Mrs.  Hamilton  was  no  longer  to  be  de- 
ceived, and  they  could  gain  nothing  by  staying.  There  was 
an  angry  scene  between  the  mother  and  son. 

"  Were  you  mad,  Conrad,"  said  his  mother,  to  steal  where 
you  were  sure  to  be  found  out?  It  is  your  folly  that  has 
turned  Cousin  Hamilton  against  us." 

"No;  it  is  that  boy.    I'd  like  to  wring  his  neck! 

"  I  hope  he'll  come  to  some  bad  end,"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  ma- 
lignantly. "  If  he  had  not  come  to  the  house  none  of  this 
would  have  happened."  ,     ,  .■  j.    i        „^„ 

Meanwhile  Ben  and  his  patroness  had  a  satisfactory  con^ 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  with  my  management,  Mrs.  Ham^ 
ilton? "  said  our  hero.  _         ^^         ,  ^ ,,   , 

"  You  have  done  wonderfully,  Ben.  Through  you  I  am  th^ 
richer  by  thirty-five  thousand  dollars  at  the  very  least,  tor 
the  farm  would  have  been  dear  at  five  thousand,  whereas  itl 
was  sold  for  forty  thousand." 


124  THE    STORE   BOY 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  are  satisfied." 

"  You  shall  have  reason  to  be  glad.  I  intend  to  pay  you 
a  commission  for  selling  the  place." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ben,  joyfully. 

He  thought  it  possible  Mrs.  Hamilton  might  give  him  fifty 
dollars,  and  this  would  have  been  very  welcome. 

"  Under  the  circumstances,  I  shall  allow  you  an  extra 
commission — say  ten  per  cent.  How  much  will  ten  per  cent, 
amount  to  on  forty  thousand  dollars?" 

"  Four  thousand,"  answered  Ben,  mechanically. 

I'  Consider  yourself  worth  four  thousand  dollars,  then." 

"  But  this  is  too  much,  Mrs.  Hamilton,"  said  Ben,  scarcely 
crediting  his  good  fortune. 

"  Then  give  half  of  it  to  your  mother,"  said  Mrs.  Hamil- 
ton, smiling. 

"  Now  we  can  pay  off  the  mortgage! "  exclaimed  Ben,  joy- 
fully. 

"What  mortgage?" 

Ben  told  the  story,  and  it  aroused  the  lively  sympathy  of 
his  patroness. 

"  As  soon  as  the  purchase-money  is  paid,"  she  said.  "  you 
shall  have  your  commission,  and  sooner  if  it  is  needed." 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 

A  LETTER  FROM   ROSE   GARDINER 

Ben  resumed  his  place  as  the  secretary  and  confidential 
clerk  of  Mrs.  Hamilton.  He  found  his  position  more  agree- 
able when  Mrs.  Hill  and  Conrad  were  fairly  out  of  the  house. 
In  place  of  the  first  a  pleasant-faced  German  woman  was 
engaged,  and  there  were  no  more  sour  looks  and  sneering 
words. 

Of  course  Ben  kept  up  a  weekly  correspondence  with  his 
mother.  He  did  not  tell  her  the  extent  of  his  good  fortune — 
he  wished  that  to  be  a  surprise,  when  the  time  came.  From 
his  mother,  too,  he  received  weekly  letters,  telling  him  not 
unfrequently  how  she  missed  him,  though  she  was  glad  he 
was  doing  well. 

One  day  beside  his  mother's  letter  was  another.  He  did 
not  know  the  handwriting,  but,  looking  eagerly  to  the  end, 
he  saw  the  name  of  Rose  Gardiner. 

"How  kind  of  Rose  to  write  to  me!"  he  thought,  with  a 
smile  of  pleasure.  As  we  are  specially  privileged,  we  will 
look  over  Ben's  shoulder,  and  read  the  letter : 

"  Dear  Ben  :  I  dare  say  you  will  be  surprised  to  hear  from 
me,  but  I  hope  my  letter  will  not  be  unwelcome.    First  of 


THE    STORE   BOY  125 

all  let  me  tell  you  how  much  we  all  miss  you.  In  a  small 
village  like  Pentonville  we  can't  spare  any  one  that  is  agree- 
able " 

"  i  am  glad  Rose  thinks  me  agreeable,"  commented  Ben. 

He  read  on:  ^        „  ,,         .    rr,       t^ 

"  There  are  some  we  can  spare.  One  of  them  is  Tom  Dav- 
enport. He  is  getting  more  horrid  every  day.  He  sees  fit 
to  bestow  a  good  deal  of  his  company  on  me,  though  good- 
ness knows  I  don't  want  him.  He  hasn't  forgotten  you.  He 
often  speaks  of  you,  and  always  with  a  sneer.  He  pretended, 
that  some  one  had  seen  you  selling  papers  m  front  of  the 
Astor  House,  and  hinted  that  you  slept  at  the  Newsboys 
Lodging  House.  I  told  him  that  even  if  it  were  true  I 
shouldn't  think  any  the  less  of  you;  but  I  told  him  it  was  not 
true  I  told  him  you  had  been  out  West  to  transact  some 
business  for  a  lady.  '  More  likely  he  tramped  out  there,'  he 
said.  If  he  thinks  I  like  him  any  better  for  running  you 
down  he  is  very  much  mistaken. 

"There's  another  person  we  could  spare  very  well  from 
the  village,  and  that  is  the  man  Kirk,  a  relation  of  Mr. 
Davenport,  who  is  keeping  the  store.  He  doesn't  know  much 
about  store-keeping,  and  is  so  disagreeable  that  people  don  t 
like  to  trade  with  him.  I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if 
some  one  started  an  opposition  store.     I  wish  they  would. 

"  I  often  go  to  see  your  mother.  She  is  well,  but  I  think 
she  is  worrying  about  the  house.  She  says  Squire  Daven- 
port will  foreclose  the  mortgage,  unless  she  can  pay  seven 
hundred  dollars,  and  interest,  on  the  twentieth  of  December. 
You  know  that  is  only  ten  days  off.  I  saw  the  squire  and 
Mr  Kirk  passing  the  house  yesterday  and  looking  toward  it. 
i  believe  it  is  to  be  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  two  rooms 
when  the  Kirks  get  it.  I  do  wish  I  had  the  money,  and  I 
would  thwart  their  meanness;  but  all  I  have  in  the  world 
is  a  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents,  and  you,  I  suppose,  are 
not  much  richer."  _  ,     ,  ,  .        ,n  l. -^    ,     i 

"  What  would  Rose  say,"  Ben  asked  himself,  if  she  knew 
that  I  am  worth  four  thousand  dollars?"  .^  j   • 

The  money  had  been  paid  to  Ben,  and  was  deposited  m 
four  different  savings-banks,  till  he  could  decide  on  a  better 
investment.  So  he  was  quite  sure  of  having  more  than 
enough  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  and  redeem  the  cottage. 

"  Since  mother  is  worrying,  I  must  write  and  set  her  mind 
at  rest,"  he  decided. 

He  wrote  accordingly,  telling  his  mother  not  to  feel  anx- 
ious, for  he  had  wealthy  friends,  and  he  felt  sure  with  their 
help,  of  paying  off  the  mortgage.  "But  don't  tell  anybody 
this,"  he  continued,  "  for  I  want  to  give  the  squire  and  Mr. 
Kirk  a  disagreeable  surprise.  I  shall  come  to  Pentonville 
two  days  before,  and  may  stay  a  week." 

He  had  already  spoken  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  about  having  this 
week  as  a  vacation. 


126  THE  STORE  BOY 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

ben's  visit  to  pentonville 

On  the  eighteenth  of  December  Ben  arrived  in  Pentonville. 
It  was  his  first  visit  since  he  went  up  to  New  York  for  good. 
He  reached  home  without  observation,  and  found  his  mother 
overjoyed  to  see  him  again. 

"  It  has  seemed  a  long,  long  time  that  you  have  been  away, 
Ben,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  mother;  but  I  did  a  good  thing  in  going  to  New 
York." 

"You  are  looking  well,  Ben,  and  you  have  grown!" 

"  Yes,  mother;  and  best  of  all,  I  have  prospered.  Squire 
Davenport  can't  have  the  house!" 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Ben,  that  you  have  the  money  to 
pay  it  off?  "  asked  his  mother,  with  eager  hope. 

"  Yes,  mother,  and,  better  still,  the  money  is  my  own." 

"This  can't  be  true,  Ben!"  she  said,   incredulously. 

"Yes,  but  it  is  though!  You  are  to  ask  me  no  questions 
till  after  the  twentieth.     Then  I  will  tell  you  all." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  send  you  to  the  store,  for  I 
am  out  of  groceries." 

"  I  will  go  with  pleasure.  I  want  to  see  how  the  old  store 
looks." 

"  It  is  not  like  the  old  store.  Mr.  Kirk  is  a  very  poor  busi- 
ness man.    Wait,  and  I  will  get  you  the  money." 

"  Not  much,  mother,"  said  Ben,  laughing;  "  I've  got  plenty. 
Now,  what  shall  I  get?  " 

A  list  was  given,  and  Ben  started  for  the  store. 

Mr.  Kirk  looked  up  in  surprise  as  he  entered. 

"  You're  the  Barclay  boy,  ain't  you?"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  thought  you  were  in  New  York." 

"  I  was,  but  I  have  just  got  home." 

"  Couldn't  make  it  go,   hey?  " 

Ben  smiled,  but  did  not  answer. 

"  I  may  give  you  something  to  do,"  said  Kirk,  in  a  pat- 
ronizing tone.  "  You've  been  employed  in  this  store,  I  be- 
lieve." 

"  Yes,  I  was  here  some  months." 

"  I'll  give  you  two  dollars  a  week." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ben,  meekly,  "  but  I  shall  have  to  take 
a  little  time  to  decide — say  the  rest  of  the  week." 

"I  suppose  you  want  to  help  your  mother  move?" 

"  She  couldn't  move  alone." 

"Very  well;  you  can  begin  next  Monday." 

Mr.  Ktrk  was  a  little  surprised  at  Ben's  liberal  purchases, 
for  he  bought  more  than  his  mother  had  ordered. 

Wh«n  Ben  was  going  home,  he  met  his  old  enemy,  Tom 


THE    STORE    BOY  127 

Davenport.  Tom's  eyes  lighted  up  when  he  saw  Ben,  and 
he  crossed  the  street  to  speak  to  him.  It  may  be  mentioned 
that,  though  Ben  had  a  new  and  stylish  suit  of  clothes,  he 
came  home  in  the  old  suit  he  had  worn  away,  and  his  ap- 
pearance, therefore,  by  no  means  betokened  prosperity. 

"So  you're  back  again!"  said  Tom,  abruptly. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  always  said  you'd  come  back." 

"Did  you?  I  always  expected  to.  I  didn't  mean  to  desert 
my  mother." 

"  I  understand.    You  don't  seem  to  have  made  a  fortune." 

"  What  do  you  judge  from?  " 

"  From  your  shabby  clothes." 

"Don't  they  look  well  enough?" 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  they  will  do — for  you.  When  I  go  home, 
I'll  look  over  my  old  suits,  and  see  if  I  can't  fmd  you  one." 

"  You  are  unexpectedly  kind,  Tom,"  said  Ben,  amused. 

"  I  like  to  be  charitable,"  said  Tom. 

Ben  knew  very  well  that  Tom's  offer  was  prompted  by 
very  diiferent  considerations,  but  he  did  not  care  to  reveal 
his  secret,  and  accepted  his  patronage  good-naturedly. 

"Are  you  going  to  look  for  something  to  do?"  Tom  asked. 

"  Mr.  Kirk  has  offered  me  a  place  in  the  store." 

"  How  much  pay?  " 

"  Two  dollars  a  week." 

"  You'd  better  take  it." 

"  I  hardly  think  I  can  work  at  that  figure,"  said  Ben, 
mildly. 

"  Kirk  won't  pay  you  any  more." 

"  I'll  think  of  it.  By  the  way,  Tom,  call  around  and  see 
me  some  time." 

"  I  hardly  think  I  shall  have  time,"  said  Tom,  haughtily. 
"  He  talks  as  if  I  were  his  equal! "  he  said  to  himself. 

"  Well,  good- afternoon.    Remember  me  to  your  father." 

Tom  stared  at  Ben  in  surprise.  Really  the  store  boy  was 
getting  very  presumptuous, .  he  thought. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX 

COKCLUSION 

On  the  evening  of  the  nineteenth  of  December  Ben  stood 
on  the  piazza  of  the  village  hotel  when  the  stage  returned 
from  the  depot.  He  examined  anxiously  the  passengers  who 
got  out.  His  eyes  lighted  up  joyfully  as  he  recognized  in 
one  the  man  he  was  looking  for. 

"  Mr.  Dinsmore,"  he  said,  coming  forward  hastily. 


128  THE    STORE   BOY 

"You  see  I  have  kept  my  word,"  said  Harvey  Dinsmore, 
with  a  smile. 

"  I  feared  you  would  not  come." 

"  I  wished  to  see  the  discomfiture  of  our  friend  Squire 
Davenport.    So  to-morrow  is  the  day?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  should  like  to  be  on  hand  when  the  squire  calls." 
.    "  That  will  be  at  twelve  o'clock.    My  mother  has  received 
a  note  from  him  fixing  that  hour." 

"  Then  I  will  come  over  at  half-past  eleven  if  you  will 
allow  me." 

"  Gome;  we  will  expect  you." 

"  And  how  have  you  fared  since  I  saw  you,  my  young 
friend?  " 

"  I  have  been  wonderfully  fortunate,  but  I  havp  kept  my 
good  fortune  a  secret  from  all,  even  my  mothet.  It  will 
come  out  to-morrow." 

"  Your  mother  can  feel  quite  at  ease  about  the  mortgage." 

"Yes;  even  if  you  had  not  come  I  am  able  to  pay  it." 

"Whew!  then  you  have  indeed  been  fortunate  for  a  boy. 
I  suppose  you  borrowed  the  money?  " 

"No;  I  earned  it." 

"  Evidently  you  were  born  to  succeed.  Will  you  take  sup- 
per with  me?" 

"  Thank  you.     Mother  will  expect  me  at  home." 

At  half-past  eleven  the  next  forenoon  the  stranger  called 
at  the  door  of  Mrs.  Barclay.    He  was  admitted  by  Ben. 

"  Mother,"  said  Ben,  "  this  is  Mr.  Harvey  Dinsmore." 

"  I  believe  we  have  met  before,"  said  Dinsmore,  smiling. 
"  I  fear  my  first  visit  was  not  welcome.  To-day  I  come  in 
more  respectable  guise  and  as  a  friend." 

"  You  are  welcome,  sir,"  said  the  widow,  courteously.  "  I 
am  glad  to  see  you.    I  should  hardly  have  knowni  you." 

"  I  take  that  as  a  compliment.  I  am  a  tramp  no  longer, 
but  a  respectable  and,  I  may  add,  well-to-do  citizen.  Now 
I  have  a  favor  to  ask." 

"  Name  it,  sir." 

"  Place  me,  if  convenient,  where  I  can  hear  the  inter- 
view between  Mr.  Davenport  and  yourself  without  myself 
being  seen." 

Ben  conducted  Dinsmore  into  the  kitchen  opening  out  of 
the  sitting-room,   and  gave  him  a  chair. 

At  five  minutes  to  twelve  there  was  a  loud  knock  at  the 
outer  door,  and  Ben  admitted  Squire  Davenport. 

"So  you  are  home  again,  Benjamin,"  said  the  squire. 
"Had  enough  of  the  city?" 

"  I  am  taking  a  vacation.  I  thought  mother  would  need 
me  to-day." 

"  She  will — to  help  her  move." 

"  Step  in,  sir." 

Squire  Davenport,  with  the  air  of  a  master,  followed  Ben 


THE   STORE   BOY  129 

^  into  the  sitting-room.    Mrs.  Barclay  sat  quietly  at  the  table 
with  her  sewing  in  hand. 

"  Good-day,  widow,"  said  the  squire,  patronizingly. 

He  was  rather  surprised  at  her  quiet,  unruffled  demeanor. 
He  expected  to  find  her  tearful  and  sad. 

"Good-day,  Squire  Davenport,"  she  said,  quietly.  "Is 
your  family  well? " 

"Zounds!  she  takes  it  coolly,"  thought  the  squire. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  dryly.  "  I  suppose  you  know  my 
business?" 

"You  come  about  the  mortgage?" 

"Yes;  have  you  decided  where  to  move?" 

"  My  mother  does  not  propose  to  move,"  said  Ben,  calmly. 

"  Oho!  that's  your  opinion,  is  it?  I  apprehend  it  is  not  for 
you  to  say." 

"  That  is  where  I  differ  from  you.    We  intend  to  stay." 

"Without  consulting  me,  eh?" 

"  Yes,    sir." 

"You  are  impudent,  boy!"  said  the  squire,  waxing  wrath- 
ful. "  I  shall  give  you  just  three  days  to  find  another  home, 
though  I  could  force  you  to  leave  at  once." 

"  This  house  belongs  to  my  mother." 

"  You  are  mistaken.     It  belongs  to  me." 

"When  did  you  buy  it?" 

"  You  are  talking  foolishly.  I  hold  a  mortgage  for  seven 
hundred  dollars  on  the  property,  and  you  can't  pay  it.  I 
am  willing  to  cancel  the  mortgage  and  pay  your  mother 
three  hundred  dollars  cash  for  the  place." 

"  It  is  worth  a  good  deal  more." 

"  Who  will  pay  more? "  demanded  the  squire,  throwing 
himself  back  in  his  chair. 

"  I  will,"  answered  Ben. 

"  Ho  ho!  that's  a  good  joke,"  said  the  squire.  "Why,  you 
are  not  worth  five  dollars  in  the  world." 

"  It  doesn't  matter  whether  I  am  or  not.  My  mother  won't 
sell." 

"  Then  pay  the  mortgage,"  said  the  squire,  angrily. 

"  I  am  prepared  to  do  so.    Have  you  a  release  with  you?  " 

Squire  Davenport  stared  at  Ben  in  amazement. 

"Enough  of  this  folly!"  he  said,  sternly.  "I  am  not  in 
the  humor  for  jokes." 

"  Squire  Davenport,  I  am  not  joking.  I  have  here  money 
enough  to  pay  the  mortgage,"  and  Ben  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  thick  roll  of  bills. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  money? "  asked  Squire  Daven- 
port, in  evident  discomfiture. 

"  I  don't  think  it  necessary  to  answer  that  question;  but 
there  is  another  matter  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  about.  When 
will  you  be  ready  to  pay  the  sum  you  owe  my  father's  es- 
tate? " 

Squire  Davenport  started  violently. 


130       .  THE    STORE   BOY 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  demanded,  hoarsely. 

Harvey  Dinsmore  entered  the  room  from  the  kitchen  afJ 
this  point. 

"  I  will  answer  that  question,"  he  said.  "  Ben  refers  to 
a  note  for  a  thousand  dollars  signed  by  you,  which  was 
found  on  his  father's  person  at  the  time  of  his  death." 

"  No  such  note  is  in  existence,"  said  the  squire,  triumph- 
antly.    He  remembered  that  he  had  burned  it. 

"  You  are  mistaken.  That  note  you  burned  was  only  a 
copy!    I  hava  the  original  with  me." 

"  You  treacherous  rascal ! "  exclaimed  the  squire,  in  great 
excitement. 

"  When  I  have  dealings  with  a  knave  I  am  not  very 
scrupulous,"  said  Dinsmore,  coolly. 

"  I  won't  pay  the  note  you  have  trumped  up.  This  is  a 
conspiracy." 

"  Then,"  said  Ben,  "  the  note  will  be  placed  in  the  hands 
of  a  lawyer." 

"  This  is  a  conspiracy  to  prevent  my  foreclosing  the  mort- 
gage.    But  it  won't  work,"  said  the  squire,   angrily. 

"  There  you  are  mistaken.  I  will  pay  the  mortgage  now 
in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Dinsmore,  and  let  the  other  matter  be 
settled  hereafter.    Please  prepare  the  necessary  papers." 

Suddenly  the  squire  did  as  requested.  The  money  was 
paid  over,  and  Ben,  turning  to  his  mother,  said: 

"  Mother,  the  house  is  ours  once  more  without  incum- 
brance." 

"Thank  God!"  ejaculated  the  widow. 

"  Mr.  Dinsmore,"  said  Squire  Davenport,  when  this  busi- 
ness was  concluded,  "may  I  have  a  private  word  with  you? 
Please  accompany  me  to  my  house." 

"  As  you  please,  sir." 

When  they  emerged  into  the  street  Squire  Davenport  said : 

"  Of  course  this  is  all  a  humbug.  You  can't  have  the  orig- 
inal with  you?  " 

"  But  I  have,  sir.  You  should  have  looked  more  closely 
at  the  one  you  burned." 

"  Can't  we  compromise  this  matter?  "  asked  the  squire,  in 
an  insinuating  tone. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Dinsmore,  with  emphasis.  "  I  have  got 
through  with  rascality.  You  can't  tempt  me.  If  I  were  as 
hard  up  as  when  I  called  upon  you  before,  I  might  not  be 
able  to  resist  you;  but  I  am  worth  over  ten  thousand  dollars, 
and " 

"  Have  you  broken  into  a  bant?  "  asked  Squire  Davenport, 
with  a  sneer. 

"  I  have  come  into  a  legacy.  To  cut  matters  short,  it  will 
be  for  your  interest  to  pay  this  claim,  and  not  allow  this 
story  to  be  made  known.  It  would  damage  your  reputa- 
tion." 

In  the  end  this  was  what  the  squire  was  forced  very  un- 


THE    STORE    BOY  131 

willingly  to  do.  The  amount  he  had  to  pay  to  the  estate  of 
the  man  whose  family  he  had  sought  to  defraud  was  nearly 
fifteen  hundred  dollars.  This,  added  to  Ben's  four  thousand, 
made  the  family  very  comfortable.  Mr,  Kirk  was  compelled 
to  look  elsewhere  for  a  house.  No  one  was  more  chagrined 
at  the  unexpected  issue  of  the  affair  than  Tom  Davenport, 
whose  mean  and  jealous  disposition  made  more  intense  his 
hatred  of  Ben. 

******* 

Several  years  have  elapsed.  Ben  is  in  the  office  of  a  real 
estate  la^^^er  in  New  York,  as  junior  partner.  All  Mrs. 
Hamilton's  business  is  in  his  hands,  and  it  is  generally 
thought  that  he  will  receive  a  handsome  legacy  from  her 
eventually.  Mrs.  Barclay  prefers  to  live  m  Pentonville,  but 
Ben  often  visits  her.  Whenever  he  goes  to  Pentonville  he 
never  fails  to  call  on  Rose  Gardiner,  now  a  beautiful  young 
lady  of  marriageable  age.  She  has  lost  none  of  her  partiality 
for  Ben,  and  it  is  generally  understood  that  they  are  en- 
gaged. I  have  reason  to  think  that  the  rumor  is  correct,  and 
that  Rose  will  change  her  name  to  Barclay  within  a  year. 
Nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  to  Mrs.  Barclay,  who  has 
long  looked  upon  Rose  as  a  daughter.  .  . 

Tom  Davenport  is  now  in  the  city,  but  his  course  is  tar 
from  creditable.  His  father  has  more  than  once  been  com- 
pelled to  pay  his  debts,  and  has  angrily  refused  to  do  so 
again.  In  fact,  Tie  has  lost  a  large  part  of  his  once  hand- 
some fortune,  and  bids  fair  to  close  his  life  m  penury.  Suc- 
cess has  come  to  Ben  because  he  deserved  it,  and  well-mer- 
ited retribution  to  Tom  Davenport.  Harvey  Dmsmore,  once 
given  over  to  evil  courses,  has  redeemed  himself,  and  is  a 
reputable  business  man  in  New  York.  Mrs.  Hamilton  still 
lives,  happy  in  the  success  of  her  protege.  Conrad  and  his 
mother  have  tried  more  than  once  to  regain  their  positions 
in  her  household,  but  in  vain.  None  of  my  young  readers 
will  pity  them.  They  are  fully  rewarded  for  their  treach- 
ery. 


THE   END 


STRANGE  PORTS 

By  John  Fleming  Wilson 

We  sat  on  the  wheel-box  of  the  Mary  E.  Timms,  smoking 
oup  pipes  in  the  glitter  of  Californian  sunshine.  The 
schooner  lay  before  us,  empty  and  deserted.  Up  the  gaping 
main  hatch  came  soft  sounds  of  water  gurgling  along  the 
planks  of  the  hull.  My  companion  took  his  pipe  out  of  his 
mouth,  cuddled  it  in  his  huge  fist,  and  shook  his  head  at  a 
straw-haired  man  who  peered  down  at  us  from  the  wharf. 

"Don't  know  where  she's  bound  for!"  he  rumbled. 

The  man  nodded  and  retired,  sinking  behind  the  edge  of 
the  wharf  till  only  a  round  hat  bobbed  within  view.  When 
this,  after  several  erratic  movements  along  our  wooden  hori- 
zon, disappeared,  too,  the  mate  resumed  his  pipe. 

"  Sailors  always  want  to  know  where  you're  going,"  he 
remarked. 

"  That's  natural,"  I  suggested. 

"  It  is,"  was  the  reply.  "  But  I  remember  when  young 
fellows  weren't  so  curious  about  where  the  vessel  was  cleared 
for.  But  sailing  was  sport  those  days.  Now  it's  business. 
There  aren't  many  strange  ports  left,  so  to  speak." 

The  phrase  caught  my  ear. 

"Strange  ports?  You  talk  like  a  sailor  out  of  one  of 
Magellan's  ships.  Whoever  thinks  of  setting  sail  for  strange 
ports  nowadays?" 

"  Oh,  well,"  the  mate  answered  with  some  signs  of  embar- 
rassment, "that's  just  a  manner  of  speaking!  Only  I  was 
thinking  of  Silas  Everett  and  the  voyage  of  the  El  Dorado." 

"Did  you  go  to  strange  ports?"  I  demanded. 

The  mate  sought  the  mizzen  truck  with  dreamy  eyes. 

"  We  sailed  for  'em,"  he  answered  me  slowly.  "  You 
see " 

Captain  Silas  Everett  quit  the  Pacific  Mail  line,  and  a  first- 
class  ship,  one  day  about  ten  years  ago.  Nobody  could  ex- 
actly make  out  why  he  left  the  San  Juan,  for  Everett  was 


STRANGE   PORTS  133 

a  steady,  skillful,  quiet  skipper,  not  more  than  middle-aged, 
and  he  would  sooner  or  later  have  been  given  one  of  the 
crack  express  steamers.  But  one  day — I  was  third  mate  with 
him — he  went  to  the  superintendent  and  resigned.  Then  he 
came  back  to  the  San  Juan,  emptied  his  lockers,  told  the 
steward  to  hang  a  fresh  towel  over  the  mirror,  and  came  up 
on  the  bridge  where  I  was  fixing  the  compass. 

"Just  hand  me  out  those  glasses  of  mine,  Grindley,"  he 
said.    "  I've  left  the  ship." 

I  got  him  his  binoculars,  and  that  was  all  there  was  to  it. 
Naturally,  I  was  surprised;  but  Thompson  took  the  steamer, 
and  I  didn't  think  much  more  about  it  till  next  trip  into  San 
Francisco,  when  Everett  hunted  me  up. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  mate  with  me  in  the  El  Dorado?  " 
says  he. 

"El  Dorado?  "  says  I.    "  I  don't  know  her." 

"  She's  a  brig,"  he  told  me. 

"  Where  bound?  "  I  asked  him. 

Everett  just  looked  at  me  with  his  steady  eyes  and  said: 

"Are  you  game  for  a  voyage  anywhere?" 

Funny,  wasn't  it?  But  I  climbed  right  down,  so  to  speak, 
and  said: 

*'  Anything  for  a  change.  I'm  sick  of  the  smell  of  steam 
and  the  same  old  road  year  in  and  year  out." 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  said.  "  I  stuck  to  that  route  for 
twenty-three  years.  Come  over  to  Meiggs'  Wharf  and  have 
a  look  at  the  El  Dorado." 

So  I  went  and  drew  my  pay  and  turned  in  the  buttons  and 
badges  on  my  uniform,  and  we  walked  down  to  Meiggs' 
Wharf,  and  I  had  a  look  at  my  new  ship. 

She  wasn't  very  big,  and  was  old-fashioned  as  a  whaler. 
She  was  about  five  hundred  tons  burden,  heavily  built,  with 
good  lines,  and  a  half-deck.  She  was  oversparred,  and  the 
canvas  was  all  new,  I  could  see.  Brasswork  shining,  decks 
like  cream,  and  new  dowels  looking'  up  like  bright  dollars 
out  of  the  low  quarter-deck. 

"  There  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  for  a  mate  to  do,"  I  re- 
marked, and  Everett  nodded. 

"  I've  tended  her  myself,"  he  told  me.  "  She's  all  ready 
for  sea.  I've  got  half  a  crew,  and  I  reckon  we  can  pick  up 
the  rest  in  a  day  or  so." 


134  STRANGE    PORTS 

That  night  I  threw  my  blankets  into  my  bunk  on  the  El 
Dorado,  cut  up  some  tobacco  into  the  soap-dish,  and  felt  at 
home  for  the  first  time  in  six  years.  It's  pretty  fine  to  step 
out  on  deck  of  a  nice  evening  and  smell  no  steam  and  see  no 
passengers  and  not  feel  that  from  six  to  sixteen  ventilators 
are  swung  the  wrong  way.  I  turned  in  and  slept  like  a  full 
bottle — without  a  gurgle.  Next  morning  I  turned  what  hands 
were  aboard  out  at  dawn  and  scrubbed  the  decks.  Then  I 
drank  my  coffee  and  wondered  where  Everett  was.  I  hadn't 
heard  him  come  aboard  the  night  before.  He  hove  in  sight 
just  as  I  set  my  coffee  cup  down,  and  he  had  two  more  hands 
in  tow.  He  shoved  them  up  the  plank,  gave  them  a  twist 
towards  the  fo'c'sle,  and  came  up  to  me,  rubbing  his  fingers 
together. 

"  Three  more  men  will  fill  us  up,"  he  remarked. 

Now  I  had  had  a  good,  fair  look  at  the  hands  already 
signed  on,  and  I  had  a  glance  at  the  two  he  had  just  brought. 
I  spoke  my  mind. 

"  Of  all  the  rough,  rum,  piratical,  filibustering,  throat- 
cutting,  knife-eating,  nail-chewing,  impolite  sons  of  Nep- 
tune that  I  ever  laid  eyes  on  you've  got  the  pick,  cream  and 
eelight,"  I  said.  "  The  very  largest-sized  cuss-word  wouldn't 
half  go  round  with  'em."- 

Everett  smiled,  apparently  much  pleased  with  himself. 

"Can  you  handle  them?"  he  inquired  very  civilly. 

"  I've  been  third  officer  and  kindergartner  on  a  mail  boat 
for  six  years,"  I  said.  "  My  hands  are  soft.  But  I  once 
sailed  with  a  Nova  Scotia  crew  out  of  Pictou,  and  I  had  cal- 
louses on  my  shoes.    I  understand  I  am  mate  of  this  brig." 

No  more  was  said  or  was  needful  to  say,  though  the  last 
three  seamen  that  Everett  signed  on  struck  me  as  being  fel- 
lows that  no  skipper  in  his  wits  would  have  more  than  one 
of  in  a  crew — tall,  hairy,  scowling,  sullen  chaps,  the  biggest- 
of  whom  Everett  made  bos'n  on  the  spot.  I  merely  pondered 
to  myself  the  probability  that  the  El  Dorado  was  going  as  a 
pirate  or  on  a  sealing  voyage  in  the  Jap  islands.  But  it  was 
none  of  my  business,  and  I  kept  my  mouth  shut. 

We  sailed  the  next  day,  without  any  fuss,  and  twenty-one 
days  later  I  came  up  during  my  watch  below  and  tackled 
Everett  to  know  where  we  were  bound  for. 

"  We've  toddled  out  into  the  Pacific  a  thousand  miles  and 


STRANGE    PORTS          '  135 

dropped  down  towards  the  Equator  another  thousand,  and 
now,  as  I  understand  it,  we  are  rocking  along  into  the  places 
where  the  maps  are  plain  blue  without  any  specks  on  them. 
I've  spent  my  days  licking  the  crew  and  my  nights  trying 
to  get  up  strength  enough  to  lick  them  again  the  next  day. 
You  have  twelve  hands  on  this  brig,  and  each  of  the  twelve 
would  occupy  the  entire  time  and  attention  of  three  police- 
men. Look  at  your  second  mate  over  there;  he  hasn't 
knuckles  left  to  wipe  his  eyes  with.    How  many  days  more?  " 

Everett  took  all  this  in  and.  then  invited  me  into  the  cabin, 
where  he  called  the  boy  and  ordered  him  to  bring  glasses. 
He  reached  out  a  large  bottle  himself,  and  presently  we  were 
discussing  it  without  too  much  cerernony  while  the  shadow 
of  the  spanker  swept  back  and  forth  across  the  open  skylight. 

"  I  might  as  well  explain  some  things  to  you,"  the  skipper 
told  me,  brushing  his  hair  down  on  both  sides  of  his  head. 
"  But  possibly  even  then  you  won't  understand.  You  will  see 
that  I  am  trying  to  make  up  for  my  lack  of  advantages  in  my 
youth." 

Everett  stared  at  me  anxiously. 

"  I'm  listening,  sir,"  I  said  encouragingly, 

"  I  suppose  you  ran  away  to  sea?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  did,"  I  said.    "  I  perspire  when  I  think  of  it." 

He  nodded  his  head  vigorously. 

"  Now  there  you  have  it — real  adventure,  Mr.  Grindley. 
As  a  boy  you  ran  away  to  sea."  He  smacked  his  lips.  "  Now 
I  had  no  such  luck.  My  father  apprenticed  me  when  I  was 
fourteen  years  old,  and  I  spent  five  years  in  the  same  ship 
trading  across  the  Atlantic.  Then  I  was  offered,  through  my 
father's  interest,  a  berth  in  the  Pacific  Mail,  and  I  stayed 
on  the  Panama  run  for  twenty-three  years  one  month  and 
eight  days.  When  I  quit  the  San  Juan  I  had  had  no  more 
experience  on  the  sea  than  one  of  the  steward's  boys — not  so 
much.  I  resolved  that  when  I  had  the  money  I  would  do 
what  I  longed  to  do  when  I  was  a  lad  and " 

Here  he  looked  at  me  in  a  scared  way  and  brushed  his  hair 
down  again. 

"And  what,  sir?"  I  helped  him  along. 

"And  run  away  to  sea,"  he  finished  hastily. 

Well,  I  stared  at  him  for  an  hour  or  so,  and  he  stared 
back,  a  prim,  clean-faced,  neat-whiskered  captain  with  a 
9tt 


136  STRANGE    PORTS 

gold  watch-chain  strung  across  his  stomach.  Odd,  wasn't  it? 
So  I  stared,  and  all  the  foolish  thoughts  that  I  ever  thought 
came  up  over  the  horizon  of  my  mind  and  settled  in  the  sky 
like  peculiar,  impudent  stars.  Were  you  ever  eleven  hun- 
dred and  sixty-five  miles  from  land  with  a  lunatic?  And 
yet  Captain  Silas  Everett  wasn't  a  lunatic.  You  could  see 
that  he  had  been  thinking  of  this  thing  for  years  and  years 
while  he  was  taking  his  sights  from  the  San  Juan,  and  telling 
the  chief  oflQcer  to  be  sure  and  not  load  coffee  and  sheep-dip 
in  the  same  hold.  He  was  sane,  all  right.  But  it  occurred 
to  me  that  one  of  us  was  crazy,  and  it  was  evident  that  I  was 
it.    So  after  a  long  while  I  managed  to  sgy : 

"  And  you're  running  away  to  sea  now?  " 

"Exactly,  Mr.  Grindley." 

"  But  where  are  you  going?  "  I  demanded. 

He  came  back  at  me  with  another  question. 

"  Did  you  know  where  you  were  bound  for  when  you  ran 
away  to  sea?  " 

"  I  did  not,  and  I  was  an " 

-  "  Of  course  you  didn't,"  he  announced,  cheering  up. 
"Neither  do  I.  Lord,  Grindley,  haven't  I  earned  this?  I 
slaved  on  a  steamer  for  twenty-three  years.  Now  I'm  going 
to  have  what  all  you  chaps  had  and  I  never  did.  I'm  going 
to  have  a  little  adventure.  Just  fancy  " — he  combed  his  hair 
up  this  time — "just  fancy:  here  we  are  with  a  tight  little 
brig,  free  as  air  and  with  the  whole  world  before  us.  Why, 
man,  it's  the  real  thing." 

A  thought  struck  me  and  I  kept  quiet  and  let  him  talk, 
which  he  did  very  sensibly,  except  for  his  notion  about  run- 
ning away  to  sea,  which  was  all  rot,  and  I  wished  I  had 
never  done  it.  But  that  night  when  I  saw  the  chance  I 
sneaked  out  the  ship's  papers  and  looked  up  her  clearance. 
I'll  bet  no  other  vessel  ever  cleared  from  San  Francisco  like 
the  El  Dorado  did.  But  there  it  was  all  written  out — "  for 
Strange  Ports"  Then  I  went  topside  and  stared  at  the  chart 
a  while.  The  El  Dorado  was  blowing  down  into  the  blank 
South  Pacific. 

There  was  one  thing,  however,  that  I  was  entitled  to  know, 
and  I  went  right  to  the  skipper  about  it. 

"  It's  all  right  about  where  we  are  bound  for,"  I  told  him. 
"  If  you're  yachting  it  suits  me.    Kindly  enlighten  me  as  to 


STRANGE    PORTS  137 

the  reason  you  had  for  raking  the  cinders  of  hell  for  your 
crew." 

He  gave  me  no  satisfaction,  though  I  found  out  after- 
wards, and  I'll  tell  you  about  that  when  I  get  to  it.  In  the 
meantime  please  consider  me  conducting  a  free  fight  through 
several  thousand  miles  of  latitude  and  longitude,  up  one  side 
of  the  world  and  down  the  other,  'cross  all  the  tropics, 
through  every  oceanic  current  and  thwartships  of  the  mun- 
dane sphere  for  eight  months.  Have  you  looked  in  your 
geography  lately?  Well,  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  said  to 
be  two-thirds  water.  That  is  a  lie.  It  is  nine-tenths  water. 
We  didn't  sight  even  an  island  from  the  time  we  left  th® 
Golden  Gate  till  nine  months  later,  when  Everett  looked  up 
at  me  from  the  chart  and  said  quietly: 

"  I  wish  you'd  correct  this  course  here.  I  make  it  sixteen 
hundred  and  eight  miles." 

I  jumped. 

"To  where?"  I  asked. 

"  To  Hue,"  he  said. 

"  Hue?  That's  a  new  one  to  me,"  I  remarked,  planting  my 
fists  on  the  chart.  "  But  land  is  land,  and  a  port  is  a  port 
the  world  over." 

When  my  eye  lit  on  Hue  I  felt  funny.  Look  for  it  on  any 
chart  of  Indian  waters.  It  is  in  Cochin  China,  not  so  far 
from  Saigon.  The  El  Dorado  was  swinging  along  in  the 
southern  equatorial  current,  and  ahead  of  her  lay  a  mess 
of  islands.  Well,  time  enough  to  tell  about  it  when  we  get 
there. 

Did  you  ever  sail  in  those  waters?  Don't.  Just  a  week 
later  than  the  day  that  Everett  handed  me  his  figures  our 
little  brig  was  plunging  bows  under  in  broken  water.  I 
swear  that  all  the  water  in  the  world  piles  up  on  the  shoals 
and  into  the  channels  off  that  coast.  It  swirls  up  from  the 
bottom,  rides  down  in  smoking  rollers,  whirls  in  vast  pools 
that  suck  and  suck  and  suck  at  the  fringes  of  smelly  islands. 
Lord,  what  a  seaman  Everett  was !  Day  after  day  we  rocked 
along  among  these  currents  and  tides.  Now  and  then  I  could 
see  the  exact  place  where  the  great  stream  of  water  forked 
and  divided.  Moon  and  stars  and  sun  together  pulled  and 
hauled  and  drew  and  drove  that  hot,  scented  sea  amid  th© 
flocking  islands.    One  hour  we  were  racing  on  the  crest  of 


138  STRANGE    PORTS 

a  tidal  wave;  the  following  hour  we  were  close-hauled  and 
beating  up  into  the  thrust  of  a  torrent  of  water  pouring 
round  some  headland.  Not  a  watch  passed  but  what  the  men 
threw  themselves  down  where  they  stood  and  panted  and 
slept  till  eight  bells  struck  again.  Everett  and  I  didn't  sleep 
at  all,  conning  that  little,  staunch  brig  through  the  welter  of 
rocks  and  water  and  shoals  and  whirlpools,  and  long  reaches 
where  the  waves  ran  ruddy  tipped  into  the  flaming  gun. 

Once  in  a  while  we  would  sight  a  steamer  coasting  care- 
fully into  some  hidden  bay,  or  a  native  craft  boiling  along 
in  a  tide-rip.  But  we  won  through,  and  the  monsoon  si- 
lenced the  sails  and  we  drove  across  the  China  Sea  towards 
Hue. 

Everett  was  jubilant  like  a  boy  out  of  school.  He  would 
smile  like  a  father  on  the  sullen,  sweating,  cursing  crew, 
and  then  his  face  would  light  up  and  he  would  draw  in  a 
long  breath  of  the  spicy  air  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I'll  have 
another  of  the  same,  please." 

Right  here  occurred  a  small  incident.  It  was  a  first-class 
mutiny.  Sun,  warm  water,  hard  work  and  nine  months  at 
sea  took  the  frazzled  loose  ends  of  our  piratical  crew  and 
twisted  them  into  a  knot  that  was  like  to  have  finished  us 
all.  We  all  knew  it  was  coming  as  soon  as  we  fetched 
smooth  seas  and  open  going.  It  broke  at  midnight  when  the 
bos'n  didn't  relieve  the  wheel.  The  man  steering  quietly  left 
his  poet  and  the  brig  came  banging  up  into  the  fresh  wind. 

I  was  just  turning  things  over  to  the  second  mate  when 
this  happened,  and  the  skipper  was  standing  in  the  stairway 
to  the  cabin  in  his  pajamas.  Of  course,  one  of  them  jumped 
for  the  wheel  while  I  ran  forward.  I  got  exactly  as  far  as 
the  corner  of  the  deck-house  when  a  long,  hairy  arm  shot 
across  my  shoulder  and  a  knife  tickled  my  windpipe.  But 
Everett  was  too  smart.  Something  burned  my  cheek,  and 
the  man  who  held  the  knife  seemed  to  lose  his  balance  and 
went  down,  grabbing  at  my  legs.  I  ran  back,  the  report  of 
a  revolver  in  my  ears. 

It  was  a  night  of  velvet,  set  with  spangled  stars  that 
»hon«  with  a  sort  of  splendid  blue  flame.  The  wind  was 
fresh  and  the  sea  smooth.  You  could  see  a  man's  bulk 
plainly,  but  you  couldn't  see  his  face  or  his  hands.  That 
made  it  bad.    But  Everett  simply  walked  forward,  with  his 


STRANGE    PORTS  139 

revolver  in  his  hand,  and  the  second  mate  and  myself  back 
of  him.  I  shall  never  forget  that  walk  down  the  jumping 
deck  pf  the  old  Ei  Dorado.  It  seemed  hours  that  we  were 
stepping  through  the  clinging  darkness  under  the  thundering 
sails,  and  all  that  time  Everett  was  whistling  gently  to  him- 
self. The  second  mate's  head  was  rocking  regularly  on  his 
shoulders  as  he  peer,ed  first  over  one  of  the  skipper's  raised 
arms  and  then  over  the  other. 

Our  slow  advance  must  have  scattered  the  wits  of  the  men, 
who  likely  expected  to  end  it  all  in  a  rush.  At  any  rate, 
they  didn't  break  in  a  body,  but  slithered  here  and  there  like 
men  dodging  bricks.  But  the  bos'n — and  he  was  a  man  in- 
deed— ^saw  that  this  wouldn't  do,  and  slipped  out  and  drove 
his  big  knife  full  at  the  old  man's  throat.  Everett  let  out 
a  loud,  surprised  whistle  and  his  gun  went  off.  The  bos'n's 
knife  clattered  against  the  bulwark,  and  he  himself  slapped 
down  on  the  deck  like  a  board.  The  old  man  fired  again, 
stared  at  the  threshing  yards  and  let  out  a  yell : 

"  Man  the  braces!  " 

Yes,  sir,  they  turned  to  like  little  children  with  their 
thumbs  in  their  mouths,  leaving  their  dead  on  the  deck 
where  the  hauling  queues  of  men  trampled  them  to  the  tune 
of  "  Sant'  Anna."  And  when  the  dawn  burned  up  the  dark- 
ness the  crew  was  done  for.  Everett  looked  'em  all  over 
carefully,  and  then  told  the  sailmaker  to  sew  the  corpses  up 
in  canvas.    Then  he  drank  his  coffee  and  smiled. 

That  afternoon  we  buried  them,  the  two  dead  men,  with 
prayer-book  and  all.  When  the  brig  was  on  her  course  again 
Everett  went  down  into  his  cabin  and  called  me. 

"  I  hope  I  did  what  was  right,  Mr.  Grindley,"  said  he. 
"  In  a  way  I  am  responsible  for  this  outbreak." 

"  I  told  you  these  hands  would  make  trouble,"  I  said. 

"  That's  one  reason  I  signed  on  such  men,"  he  remarked 
quietly.  "  In  all  my  time  at  sea  I  never  had  any  such  trouble, 
and  I  wondered  whether — whether  I  could  handle  such  a 
crowd.  It  was  an  experiment  of  mine.  Remember  Fergu- 
son? He  quelled  five  mutinies,  they  say.  Good  man,  Fer- 
guson. I  merely  wondered  if  I  was  up  to  it,  that's  all.  Well, 
poor  fellows!     All  my  fault,  too." 

Sounds  crazy,  doesn't  it?  Getting  a  crew  of  cut-throats 
just  to  see  if  one  can  manage  'em?    But  I  want  you  to  un- 


140  STRANGE    PORTS 

derstand  that  I  didn't  see  anything  crazy  about  it  at  the 
time.  I  had  got  used  to  Silas  Everett  and  his  ways.  He  was 
going  on  a  picnic  he'd  missed  when  he  was  a  kid,  and  it 
wasn't  my  place  to  cut  the  rope  to  his  swing  or  eat  his 
banana  or  hide  his  clothes  when  he  was  in  swimming. 

Next  day  we  sighted  a  lump  of  land  that  struck  me  as 
being  first-class  in  every  particular,  quite  different  from  the 
bits  of  islands  we  had  seen  so  far. 

"  That's  China,"  says  Everett  solemnly.  "  I've  never  seen 
China  before."  He  sat  down  by  the  wheel  and  enjoyed  it. 
Later  he  remarked  that  we  would  lie  in  Hue  a  long  time. 

"  I'm  going  to  see  some  of  this  China,"  he  said. 

"  You'd  have  done  it  easier  by  taking  the  Peking  to  Hong- 
Kong,"  I  suggested. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  I've  done  with  liners,  Grindley,"  he  said  familiarly,  as  it 
wasn't  my  watch.  "  I  missed  all  this  when  I  was  a  boy. 
Think  of  landing  in  a  small  boat  in  a  town  you  never  saw 
before  or  heard  of  till  you  saw  it  on  the  chart." 

"  It's  a  strange  port,  all  right,"  I  said,  not  thinking  till  I 
caught  Everett's  blush  that  I  had  given  myself  avk^ay. 

"  That  was  the  way  Columbus  cleared  his  ships,"  he  told 
me  solemnly. 

"  Well,  you're  the  Columbus  of  Hue,  anyway,"  I  said.  "  I 
wonder  how  long  it's  going  to  take  us  to  make  it?    Tow  in?" 

"There  isn't  a  tugboat  there!"  he  said  triumphantly. 
"  We're  going  to  see  China  right,  my  son." 

That  sea  is  worth  looking  at.  The  nest  day  I  watched  the 
water  foaming  under  the  bows,  the  sky  like  thick  blue  glass 
overhead,  and  smelt  the  sharp,  moist  air  and  enjoyed  it. 
Native  junks  tooled  along  like  pictures  on  a  revolving  ribbon. 
Odd  canoes  slunk  out  of  little  bays,  and  an  ancient  tub  of 
a  paddle-wheel  steamer  went  in  and  out  of  openings  in  the 
coast  like  a  big  bumblebee  poking  its  bill  into  flowers.  We 
stood  on  up  the  sea  under  plain  sail. 

I  was  called  at  four  o'clock  the  next  morning  to  relieve 
the  second  mate,  and  when  I  came  on  deck  I  found  that  we 
■were  out  of  sight  of  land  again.  The  skipper  pointed  to  the 
chart.  I  saw  the  wind  had  hauled  and  we  were  a  good  forty 
miles  off  the  coast,  which  here  entered  into  a  big  bight. 
Pitch  dark  it  was,  and  a  strong  current  setting  against  us.  I 
took  the  deck. 


STRANGE    PORTS  141 

Just  before  dawn  I  thought  I  saw  a  vessel's  lights  to  wind- 
ward— the  wind  set  off  shore — but  I  could  make  nothing  out 
till  the  first  light  came.  Then  I  saw  it  was  a  big  junk, 
painted  gaudy  red  and  black  like  a  chimney-sweep's  cart. 
It  was  moseying  along  under  a  hugeous  big  sail,  and  the 
steersman  was  perched  far  out,  hanging  to  the  end  of  his 
rudder-sweep.  That  was  all,  except  that  the  junk  was  being 
edged  over  towards  the  El  Dorado  by  the  swift  current. 
Everett  came  on  deck  and  watched  it  a  while.  Then  he  got 
his  glasses.  The  strange  craft  was  apparently  forging  ahead 
of  us. 

Half  an  hour  later  it  wasn't  a  cable's  length  away,  and 
Everett  was  staring  at  it  with  puckered  brows. 

"  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  that  affair,"  he  told  me  over  his 
shoulder.  The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth  when 
he  jumped  for  the  wheel,  calling  the  watch  to  the  braces.  I 
saw  a  score  of  bare-chested  men  climbing  up  the  bulwarks 
of  the  junk  with  knives  in  their  teeth,  and  the  steersman 
was  jamming  his  helm  over  so  as  to  thrust  the  junk  in 
towards  our  brig.  I  let  out  a  roar,  and  all  hands  piled  up 
out  of  the  fo'c'sle.  The  old  man  lifted  his  upper  lip  over 
his  teeth  and  said  in  a  loud,  clear  voice: 

"  They're  pirates.    Give  the  hands  knives." 

The  second  mate  caught  the  last  words  as  he  dived  up  the 
steps,  tumbled  back,  and  ten  seconds  later  was  spilling  ai 
heavy  rack  of  big  knives  out  on  the  deck.  The  seamen 
grabbed  at  them,  I  took  the  wheel,  and  the  second  mate 
jumped  forward  to  keep  the  Chinks  from  cutting  away  our 
headgear.  The  junk  swung  up  against  the  brig  with  a  bump, 
and  Everett  ran  down  among  the  men,  revolver  in  one  hand 
and  knife  in  the  other. 

For  twenty  minutes  I  sailed  the  brig  single-handed  while 
that  hellion  crew  of  ours,  with  the  old  man  and  the  second 
mate  in  the  thick  of  them,  slashed,  bit  and  mauled  those 
Chinks  as  they  piled  up  and  on  our  decks.  Thank  God  for 
those  nail-chewers  I'd  licked  across  ten  thousand  miles  of 
open  water  I  I  prayed  for  the  resurrection  of  the  bos'n,  and 
his  fellow  corpse.  I  kept  the  brig  full,  steered  her  like  a 
small  boat,  and  watched. 

You  understand  that  the  first  thing  these  pirates  tried  to 
do  was  to  cut  away  our  gear.    They  knew  that  if  they  could 


142  STRANGE    PORTS 

render  the  brig  helpless  they  had  all  day  to  finish  the  job  in. 
With  an  ordinary  white-headed  crew  we  would  have  been 
goners  in  ten  minutes.  But  our  men  were  boiling  for  a  scrap, 
tough  as  knots,  filled  with  ginger,  gall  and  grit.  I  saw 
whole  rows  of  claw-like  hands  clutch  our  rail  as  the  Chinks 
piled  up,  tooth  and  nail.  From  where  I  was  I  could  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  crowds  on  the  deck  of  the  junk  waiting  their 
chance,  and  the  boss  of  them,  in  a  bright  yellow  shirt,  yell- 
ing and  shrieking  at  them  from  the  afterdeck.  Then  I'd  see 
knives  flash  out  and  the  hands  drop  off,  one  by  one,  and  I'd 
hear  great,  agonized  cries  of  pain.  But  they  had  managed  to 
get  a  chain  hooked  over  the  port  channels,  and  it  held,  with 
the  weight  of  the  junk  pulling  on  it.  And  the  more  hands 
were  cut  and  mashed  the  more  men  seemed  to  swarm  up  the 
poor  brig's  sides. 

I  could  see  that  we  were  fighting  with  the  odds  against  us, 
and  every  now  and  then  a  Chink  managed  to  stick  his  toes 
in,  hold  on  for  a  second,  and  drive  his  ugly  cutlass  into  one 
of  the  hands.  Two  of  our  men  were  groaning  on  the  hatch 
already,  and  I  could  see  that  the  pirates  below  were  loading 
a  round-bellied  cannon  and  the  yellow-shirted  fiend  was 
passing  out  guns.  Something  had  to  be  done  and  done 
quickly.  I  dared  not  leave  the  wheel,  for  the  breeze  was 
freshening  and  we  were  in  a  perfect  tide-rip.  But  fortune 
took  it  out  of  my  hands.  A  dozen  of  the  pirates  managed  in 
some  way  to  pull  round  our  bows  in  a  small  boat,  and  they 
piled  over  the  lee  bulwarks  like  a  swarm  of  flies.  I  dropped 
the  wheel,  grabbed  a  handspike,  and  tumbled  down  on  the 
main  deck  to  do  my  best.  Inside  of  five  seconds  I  was  sorry 
I  had  come. 

But  Everett  had  seen  what  was  happening,  and  he  edged 
his  men  round,  back  to  back,  and  yelled  to  the  second  mate, 
who  was  nearest  the  cabin,  to  run  there  and  hold  it  so  that 
the  Chinks  couldn't  get  to  windward  of  us  that  way. 

Our  leaving  the  bulwarks  had  allowed  still  more  pirates 
to  scramble  up,  and  they  cut  the  braces  in  a  minute.  I  saw 
Everett's  face  settle  into  a  hard,  wicked  knot  when  he 
glanced  up  from  the  middle  of  the  scrimmage  and  saw  the 
yards  banging.    But  that  saved  us. 

The  brig  lost  headway,  was  caught  by  the  current,  swung 
back,  and  then  the  sails  filled  for  a  moment,  and  I  saw  the 


STRANGE   PORTS  143 

junk  slide  away  from  us  and  drag  ahead.  The  sails  emptied 
again,  and  as  the  brig  rose  on  a  big  swell  the  junk  was 
jerked  bodily  up  under  the  cutwater.  The  crash  of  the  col- 
lision threw  us  down  on  our  hands,  the  whole  boiling  of  us. 
Assorted  yells  came  from  the  junk,  the  pirates  ran  to  the 
sides  of  the  brig  and  our  sweating  men  jumped  on  them,  and 
the  rest  was  a  slaughter.  In  half  an  hour  the  decks  were 
clear  of  the  liviijig  pirates,  and  on  the  wreckage  of  the  junk 
were  floating  a  few  Chinks  whom  the  second  mate  potted 
from  the  fife  rail. 

We  had  lost  two  men,  killed  outright,  and  every  man  jack 
was  wounded.  I  had  a  rotten  slash  in  the  arm  myself.  I 
saw  Everett  grinning  over  us,  his  hand  wiping  at  the  breast 
of  his  torn  shirt. 

"  Mr.  Grindley,"  he  called  out  clearly,  "  please  turn  the 
men  to  to  clean  up.  Overhaul  the  running  gear  and  get  the 
yards  braced.    Tell  the  cook  to  get  breakfast  for  all  hands." 

"  He's  dead,  sir,"  said  somebody,  and  Everett  frowned. 

"  How  many  are  dead?  "  he  inquired  in  a  very  loud  voice. 

"  Two — the  cook  and  the  carpenter,"  I  answered  him. 

"  Tell  off  two  men  as  cook  and  carpenter,"  he  croaked,  and 
started  to  step  slowly  towards  the  poop.  But  he  didn't  get 
far.  One  of  the  hands  leaped  forward  and  caught  him  as 
he  fell. 

We  laid  him  on  a  bit  of  sail  on  the  afterdeck  and  stared 
down  at  him,  careless  of  the  threshing  yards.  He  looked  up 
at  us  and  rocked  his  head: 

"  Turn  the  men  to,"  he  said  in  a  whisper.  "  Get  the  brig 
under  way  again.    Don't  mind  me." 

The  damage  to  the  ship  was  slight,  and  half  an  hour  later 
I  came  back  to  the  quarter-deck  and  looked  down  at  the 
skipper.  He  smiled  at  me,  and  I  knelt  down  so  as  to  catch 
what  he  was  trying  to  say. 

"It  was  a  great  fight,"  he  whispered.  "What  luck!  I 
wouldn't  have  missed  it  ...  .  after  twenty-three  years  on 
a  mail  boat  .  .  .  .  I'd  like  to  see  China.  But  I  shan't.  Take 
the  brig  home  ....  neither  wife  nor  child  ....  I  sup- 
pose folks  won't  understand,  but  it  doesn't  matter,  my  son 
....  a  great  lark.     Bury  me  in  Hue." 

He  was  passing,  and  the  shadow  of  the  spanker  shaded 
his  face  wet  with  sweat.    I  listened.    He  was  smiling  to  him- 


144  STRANGE    PORTS 

self.     Suddenly  his  eyes  flashed  over  me  and  towards  lh« 
thick,  blue  sky. 

"  I'm  clearing  for  the  last  time — for  a  strange  port,"  h« 
muttered.    He  was  silent  again  for  an  interval,  then  suddenly 
raised  himself  on  one  elbow.     His  right  hand  shaded  hia 
steady  eyes;  he  drove  his  sobbing  breath  out  in  a  loud  cry,  { 
"  Land,  ho! " 

I  threw  a  spare  sail  over  him  and  laid  the  course  for  Hu6.  , 


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